


The Reason Why Werewolves and Vampires Never Date

by LeandraLocke



Category: Fantastic Four (Movies), Political Animals
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Heartbreak, M/M, Miscommunication, Past Drug Addiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-23 08:38:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 90,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8321194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeandraLocke/pseuds/LeandraLocke
Summary: Two years into their relationship, T.J. Hammond and Johnny Storm have built a life together in New York. But the peace of their relationship is shaken by a series of misunderstandings and differences that threatens to push them further and further apart. (NOT a werewolf/vampire fic; sequel to First Sons and Superheroes)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! I hope all of you who have enjoyed First Sons and Superheroes are going to be curious about this sequel as well. It is still a collaboration, though due to real life commitments and time management large parts are written by me, LeandraLocke, alone. I do hope I managed to do T.J. as much justice as Saturnmeetsmercury always did. 
> 
> This is a WIP, but almost 10* chapters are written already, and there is a detailed outline for the whole thing. So I can assure you that this one is going to be finished. For now, I will try to post a new chapter every week. 
> 
> Massive thanks to Indigo again for her great work as our beta-reader, as always!
> 
> Also, come by [T.J. and Johnny's askblog on tumblr](http://asktjandjohnny.tumblr.com/) sometime, if you like. The boys haven't received any questions for ages. 
> 
> This is NOT a vampire/werewolf fic ;) You'll see.
> 
> *Update: now 13 chapters ;)   
> Saturnmeetsmercury removed herself as an author because she said it wouldn't be fair to take the credit if I'm writing most of it alone. She DID write the first three chapters with me, though.

The sea was calm. Just a few small waves on the dark greenish blue vastness disturbed its placidity. Then, a tremor went through the water, deep and far away but strong enough to make the surface ripple in a sinus curve that moved with deceptive slowness. To an unknowing observer, any seabird or pilot of a plane high above, it would have been hardly noticeable. But the truth was, the sea was in turmoil, mega ton after mega ton of water pushed out of its natural position by an invisible force.

Had any observer looked further north, they would have caught a truly surreal sight. There, next to a gigantic platform made of steel and concrete, the sea parted as if in a biblical tale. Walls of water, more than three hundred feet high, reared up along the sides of a deep abyss, all the way down to the bottom of the sea. And in their middle, held by the same invisible force that pushed the water masses apart, was a woman floating above what used to be the water surface.

If the sight hadn’t been extraordinary on its own, the next detail that came into view, hurtling at inhuman speed, completed the picture. Like a red-hot cannonball, a shape flew through the parted waters down to the bottom, and another moment later, another shape, like a rock in human form, jumped from the edge of the oil platform and made the ground shake.

The observers that did watch - workers of the platform that had gathered along its edge - were awestruck by the display, all equally filled with apprehension but also hope that, miraculously, the imminent catastrophe would be prevented.

One of the concrete pillars had cracked under the weight of the platform, and the drill pipe had been bent. Oil threatened to leak out of the system without a chance to stop its flow, once the hull around the drill would tear, and everyone on the platform was aware of the consequences of a dramatic magnitude such a leak would mean to the ecosystem in the North Sea.

Luckily for them and for every living being in the vicinity, there was a plan that would bring this all to a successful end, and Reed Richards was sure the plan would work.

He had swung down to the bottom as well, joining Ben who, under great effort even for someone as strong as him, lifted the cracked concrete pillar. Reed had to work quickly to fill the gap with steel beams while Johnny needed to act just as swiftly, welding everything together so it would support the enormous weight of the construction. The tricky part only came after that: unbending the drill pipe so that the drill could be pulled back up and the access to the oil field sealed from above so that reconstruction of the damaged parts could begin.

“How are you doing down there? I can’t hold it much longer,” they heard Sue shout from above, and they knew, should her forcefield break, they’d all be buried underneath the water masses alive.

“I’ve got this!” Johnny shouted back, a beam of flame shooting from his palms onto the bent pipe to make it elastic enough to push into its original shape. The only one of the four of them capable of doing so, with Johnny’s flames all around him, was Ben, though he, too, had never withstood the fire for so long.

“Push!” Johnny shouted, and Ben groaned out in effort as he dug his rocky feet into the slick ocean floor, stemming his full weight against the pipe to push and bend it straight again.

“It’s cracking, kid. The hull’s cracking!”

“Keep pushing. I’ve got this. I’ll seal it,” Johnny shouted back. Around them, the walls of water started trembling.

“That’s as straight as it gets,” Ben yelled, and a split second later, Reed urged them all to get out.

The crack was not fully sealed yet, though.

Reed and Ben were already making their way back up, shouting for Johnny to hurry up. Then, high above, Sue screamed his name, and he could feel the shock waves of her force field breaking, but he needed just a second longer…

Above, on the platform, the workers watched with wide eyes and held breath how two of the Fantastic Four climbed over the railing just when Susan Storm used the last bit of her power to catapult herself onto the platform surface. For a moment that seemed surreally long, the water masses just stood in their parted position, and it almost looked like they would remain that way. Then, everything came tumbling down like an avalanche, waves crashing downwards as the sea water found its way back.

Just when the waves were about to seal the gap, a flame shot out between them, far up into the air as a giant splash of water followed him at equal speed. For a second, it looked like he had not escaped the sea after all, as if it had come to claim him, water against flame, extinguishing it in its flight, but just another moment later, Johnny came hurtling down onto the platform, vapor rising from his suit as he landed, not so softly, onto his stomach just little more than an arm's length from his sister.

“Jesus, Johnny. Why do you always have to be so dramatic?” Sue asked, exasperated, worried, shaken and visibly relieved.

Johnny could only laugh softly as he breathed hard and got onto his knees, gingerly feeling for any injuries but discovering in relief that there were none save for a few bumps and bruises. “What? I still had a second.”

There was no chance for Sue to reply. The oil workers were already running to their sides, helping them up, cheering loudly and complimenting them for their amazing job. They put them on their shoulders, held them up high and celebrated their victory - though they had to content themselves with patting Ben on the back, unable to lift someone that heavy even with joined effort.

Inside the facility, the celebrations continued, everyone overjoyed and grateful, and one or two bottles of Scotch was opened for the occasion. And that, too, was great. It was what, aside from the knowledge of having done the right thing, made their work all the more worthwhile, Johnny thought, as he accepted a glass of a specially matured whiskey from the Shetlands with a name Johnny couldn’t even pronounce.

As much as he enjoyed the thanks and the attention, Johnny was feeling himself become impatient, and he glanced towards the exit.

The truth was, he couldn’t wait to be back home with T.J. For almost two weeks, Johnny had been on the road, or rather in the air. At first, it had been a massive landslide that had cut off the Zambezi river and threatened Mozambique with the biggest draught of the century; then he flew to Hungary for a car race he had been scheduled for and looked forward to; and then, just as he was about to head back home, the emergency call from the oil rig had sent the Fantastic Four to the North Sea, offshore of the Shetland islands. He really hoped there wouldn’t be another natural catastrophe to prevent this time.

When the tumultuous celebrations and expressions of gratitude settled on the freight ship - now boarding a few dozen of the workers from the rig - Johnny snuck out on deck and to the Fantasticar to get his phone. It took one ring for him to realise that it was still no later than five in the morning in New York, and only two for the call being connected.

“Johnny, are you okay?” he heard his boyfriend’s voice on the other end, drowsy from sleep but nonetheless worried, and it sent both warmth and a stab of guilt through Johnny’s middle.

“I’m fine. Sorry, did I wake you up? I only just realised the time.”

“No, it’s fine,” T.J. replied. “How did it go?” Johnny could imagine he was rubbing his hand over his face, chasing away the tiredness, and it made Johnny wish he could be there with him even more.

“Catastrophe prevented,” he replied. “It went really smoothly. Any oil that leaked out is contained. Reed thinks we can have the platform up and running again in no time.”

“Great. That’s great to hear,” T.J. said. “So you’re coming home now?”

That slightly guilty feeling in his stomach made a sigh rise in his throat that he could just so contain. “Yeah, no, not right now. Still got some work to do here, and tomorrow we’re invited to meet the Prime Minister. You know, shake some hands, take a few photos. But we’ll head home right after that.”

“So tomorrow… afternoon or something?” T.J. asked, and Johnny didn’t miss the impatience in his carefully casual tone.  

“Yeah, afternoon, early evening-ish. I’ll let you know as soon as I can,” Johnny replied, wishing it was already time for him to take off. “But tell me about you. What did you do yesterday?”

“Uh, well, nothing as groundbreakingly important as you,” T.J. replied, and Johnny could hear him shuffle around in the back, opening what sounded like a kitchen cabinet. “Just hung out with Ella yesterday before she headed back. But we had a great time.”

Johnny let out a small sigh, shaking his head to himself. “Man, I’m so sorry I missed your gig. I hope there are at least some videos of it.” Johnny had really been looking forward to the concert that T.J. had given in a small jazz club with an old friend of his who was an amateur singer and, according to T.J., absolutely amazing.

“Yeah, I’m sure there is. Some friends of hers were there and filmed it on their phones. So you didn’t really miss anything.” Sure enough, Johnny could hear the coffee machine running in the back, and he felt even more guilty now for cutting his boyfriend’s night so short.

“Still, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine. You were saving the world once more. That’s definitely more important than any concert I could ever play.”

Johnny didn’t quite know what to say to that. Of course, T.J. had a point, but he also didn’t want him to feel insignificant, as if what he did didn’t matter at all compared to the work of a real life superhero. “I’m definitely not going to miss your next concert. At least not if there isn’t something of apocalyptic proportions happening that the other three can’t handle without me.”

“Jesus, don’t jinx it,” T.J. replied, but there was amusement in his tone. “If another… Silver Surfer or something comes to Earth for my next concert it’s gonna be your fault.”

“Hm, maybe he’s just into good music,” Johnny replied, hearing T.J. laugh softly at the other end.

“Right.”

Behind him, Johnny could hear steps, and as soon as he turned around to look, saw one of the crewmen approach him. “There you are, laddie. The captain’s opening his best Scotch to celebrate. You need to come back in.”

Johnny laughed and motioned to the phone in his hand. “One minute, okay?”

“Did I hear that right? Scotch at, what is it, ten in the morning?” T.J. asked, still that hint of amusement in his tone.

“Well, I guess this is the biggest adventure this freighter was ever involved in, so… it’s four o’clock somewhere, right? I’ll drink one for you.”

“You do that. Go enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it.” There was an unmistakable warmth in his words now, and it spread right through Johnny’s middle, sending a smile to his lips.

“I will, but not as much as I would if you were here. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We’ll stay in the whole week, just the two of us.”

“That sounds amazing. I can’t wait,” T.J. said. “Now go, my big hero. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Johnny repeated and added, a little more quietly, “I love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As he ended the call and put his phone away, Johnny remained standing where he was for a moment longer, the smile still on his lips. He was really lucky to have someone like T.J. to come home to, to miss, and while the party under deck was great, the admiring looks and words gratifying, nothing felt as good as knowing he was loved the way it had been with T.J. for the past two years.

~*~

It must have been around six when Johnny finally reached New York City. The sun was setting far on the other side of the tall skyline as he flew closer at full speed, only slowing down when he reached the familiar quarter on the Upper West Side and the rooftop terrace of their apartment came into view. But that wasn’t all. Down on the street, all around the corner of their building, where throngs of people, news vans, photographers and policemen trying to keep everything in check. So the news that the Fantastic Four would return had reached them, too, and Johnny wondered how many more of them must be waiting at the Baxter Building right now where Sue, Reed and Ben should arrive pretty soon.

No matter how much he was looking forward to seeing T.J. again, Johnny decided to take the brief detour and give the crowd what they wanted. They wouldn’t simply leave unsatisfied anyway.

He could see people turn their heads upwards, cameras pointing at him, right before he landed next to the news van and a female reporter with a microphone in her hand.

“Wow, what a welcoming committee. I didn’t expect that,” he said, smiling into the camera as the crowd cheered and called out his name.

“Oh,” the reporter - CNN as Johnny recognised now from the logo on the van and her microphone - chuckled, “The world has only been on the edge of their seats, following how the Fantastic Four prevented what could have been the largest oil catastrophe of this century. Naturally, there are many people who want to express their gratitude and hear it from one of the heroes himself how the crisis was averted.”

Johnny made a waving motion with his hand before he replied, but his attention was briefly diverted by a smaller group of people, holding up banners and signs saying ‘Oil kills’ or ‘Save the Oceans’, shouting at him in unmistakable anger. He only briefly rolled his eyes to himself and turned back towards the reporter.

“There’s enough video footage floating around already, and I’m sure my sister and Reed can explain the technicalities of it all much better, but the simple answer is that we came, we saw, and we kicked this catastrophe in the butt.”

There was laughter all around and more cheers, and Johnny found himself grinning widely as he raised an arm and waved at the onlookers.

“We’ll certainly be looking forward to hearing the more detailed explanation from your teammates then.” The reporter went on, “There were two large natural catastrophes within only two weeks that you prevented. We as regular civilians often can’t grasp the full complexity of such procedures. Were you and your teammates in grave danger at any point?”

“Nah, this one was a piece of cake,” Johnny replied nonchalantly. “We had more planning and calculations to do - again, ask Sue and Reed - than really putting our lives at stake. I mean, if Sue hadn’t succeeded in parting the ocean like Moses did the Red Sea I could have been swallowed by the waves, but I always trust my sister to know what she’s doing and not over-estimate her powers. So it was all good.”

“And yet, without your intervention no other scientists or technicians would have been able to minimize the damage as much as you did. How does it feel to know that you’re saving the world - or parts of it - so often?”

Johnny pretended to ponder the question for a second before another big grin spread on his lips. “Amazing!”

And, as expected, there were more cheers again.

“But you know what else would feel amazing right now?” he asked and the reporter indulged him, echoing, “What?”

“Getting out of this suit, taking a shower and finally enjoying a quiet evening with my boyfriend. So if you’ll excuse me I’d like to do just that,” he said before he turned towards the crowd once more. “Thank you all for coming. I really appreciate it. You all get home safely.” Johnny hoped they’d take the hint and leave. With a last wave and nod to all the people he flew back up into the air, not bothering to get in through the building’s entrance and landing on the penthouse terrace just a few seconds later.

He couldn’t see anything but a faint trace of light coming from inside through the tinted windows, and he knocked twice against the pane.

“Honey, I’m home!”

It took a few seconds until there was any reaction and T.J. appeared to opened the door, a smile breaking out over his face.

“About _time_ ,” he said and didn’t even wait before he pulled Johnny into a hug right there in the doorway.

And that hug, although Johnny couldn’t wait to kiss him and more, felt so, _so_ good.

“What do you mean about time? I said I’d be here six-ish,” he said teasingly as he leaned back, a joyful laugh bubbling from his throat. He didn’t give T.J. any time to reply, however, and instead brought their lips together for a kiss hello.

There was a sound that was half protest, half laugh, but Johnny could feel the smile against his lips as T.J. kissed him right back, his arms wrapping around Johnny’s waist.

They both decided that it was time to get inside, simultaneously it seemed, neither moving sooner than the other. Johnny pulled the balcony door shut, one hand laid around T.J.’s shoulder, before he finally let their lips part, and the other hand came up to gently cup one side of T.J.’s face.

“I really missed you, you know that?”

“As you should,” T.J. huffed with a smile on his face, his fingers curling against Johnny’s hip. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh yeah,” Johnny replied, his gaze fixed on T.J.’s lips for a long moment before it went up to his eyes again, and even though he hadn’t had any food in several hours, he was pretty sure T.J. would get his meaning.

And he did, but not immediately. For a long moment he actually looked like he was going to turn away, some suggestion already on the tip of his tongue about what they could have for dinner. But then T.J. stopped and paused, looked back at Johnny, and then a soft, amused huff escaped him.

“ _Really_.”

Johnny could only grin at him and shrug softly. “Well, two weeks is a pretty long time,” he said as he laid both hands around T.J.’s middle. Actually, it had been the longest they’d been separated ever since they moved in together, and Johnny was _so_ glad it was over. “I seriously want to get out of this suit now and take a shower first, though. Wanna join me?” He tilted his head slightly, brows raised in question with a deliberate smile on his lips as he looked at his boyfriend.

T.J. huffed out a laugh and shook his head in visible disbelief and amusement, his hands falling to Johnny’s around his waist to curl his fingers into them.

“I took a shower about three hours ago. But -” he said, let his gaze drop to Johnny’s lips very obviously, and tipped his head up a little before looking back into Johnny’s eyes, his voice dropping a notch. “You should go have one. And then come to bed.”

“To bed? But it’s only six,” Johnny couldn’t stop himself from joking, feeling a grin spread on his lips but at the same time a pleasant tingling run through his middle. And maybe it was that and all the anticipation that made him a tiny bit sillier than usual.

“Well, I clearly am tired so I need to go to bed. To sleep,” T.J. shot back dryly, a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth as he stepped away from Johnny’s hold, an obvious tease.

“Oh right, okay. Good night then,” Johnny retorted, tone just as dry, though he had to suppress a smirk around his lips. “I’ll just watch a movie then or something.” The last word was barely out as he blurted out a throaty laugh, shaking his head. “Okay. I’ll see you in ten. Five if I’m quick. I’m gonna be quick,” he ended before he brushed another small kiss to his boyfriend’s lips and, as T.J. passed him, playfully slapped his ass.

T.J. just snorted in amusement, barely glancing over his shoulder with a smirk before leaving the living room ahead of Johnny. They parted ways when he vanished in the bedroom and Johnny entered the bathroom, but that look in T.J.’s eyes stayed with him even when he had already stepped into the shower.

It had been a while since he had enjoyed the luxury of their rainfall shower, and although the warm water felt great, he hurried through it, not bothering to even dry himself properly when he was done. Just about five minutes after he had stepped through the hallway door he took the other one straight into their bedroom.

He was greeted by the sight of his boyfriend stretched out naked on the bed, resting on his front, forehead pressed lightly on the sheets. And his thighs were slightly parted, with one hand reaching behind to slowly finger himself.

And okay, Johnny had not quite expected that. Though, having known T.J. for over two years he should have. But he wasn’t really capable of any proper thought because, yeah, maybe most of his blood had rushed from his brain elsewhere.

He was at the bed an instant later, not even really fully registering dropping the towel before he was kneeling on the bed next to T.J., and he leaned over him without a word, brushing kisses to the side of T.J.’s face and his neck.

“Couldn’t wait for me to do it?” he asked softly, his lips barely parting from T.J.’s.

“Could have,” T.J. replied, the hint of a smile visible before he turned his head towards Johnny to give him more access. “Figured I’d make you wait a little less.”

“Good thinking,” Johnny replied, already feeling so aroused that any patience that he usually would have mustered was dwindling. It had really been too long.

He brought his lips to T.J.’s for a brief kiss, a small, gentle touch before another one followed, much deeper and with a hunger that was met equally by his boyfriend.

“Want me to take over?” he asked, and T.J. replied immediately, a small nod of his head, a hummed confirmation.

“Yeah…”

He pulled away his hand and wiped his fingers on his thigh, stretching out more comfortably on his stomach under Johnny.

“Hey, I want you on your back,” Johnny said and gently nudged T.J.’s shoulder to make him turn around.

“Okay, okay,” T.J. relented immediately, shifted and settled on his back, a boyish smile on his lips that he set his teeth into. He looked up at Johnny, a quiet, patient warmth in his eyes while the instep of his foot brushed slowly along Johnny’s thigh. “Better?”

“Yeah. Much better,” Johnny replied, and, despite his impatience, took his sweet time to kiss him properly and deeply, relishing the feeling of closeness that he had missed over the past two weeks much more than he would have thought.

His fingers slid between T.J.’s parted legs, finding no resistance as two of them slid inside.

He knew that meant, technically, that T.J. already had done most of the work, and that more of this wasn’t strictly necessary. But they fell into the kiss and indulged in it for a few long moments, slow, deep, intense, and at the same time just as much of a ‘hey’, ‘welcome home’, ‘I missed you’ as anything else.

And when Johnny finally pushed inside, feeling T.J. tight around him, arms around his back and eyes locked with his, it felt overwhelmingly amazing; so familiar but a little new as well, a first time after a longer pause to find out they fit together just as perfectly as before. It was a little ridiculous even just how great it felt, had continued to feel even after two years of being together.

“Next time you’re coming with me,” Johnny got out between two slow thrusts, close to T.J.’s ear before he leaned in deeper and brushed open-mouthed kisses against his jaw and neck.

“Oh really?” He could hear the smile in T.J.’s voice, his voice still calm but just that little breathless. T.J. slowly circled his hips up to meet him every time he moved back in, body feeling pliant and luxuriously eager underneath him. “And what am I supposed to do while you’re saving the world?”

“I don’t know. Read a good book or something,” Johnny replied, briefly raising his head to smile down at T.J. before he tipped back down. “Wait patiently for me to do this every night.” Another kiss to his throat, lips wandering down to his collarbone as Johnny reached for the hollow of T.J.’s right knee and pushed it further up, thrusting into him deeper and harder than before.

A huffed, slightly choked laugh came over T.J.’s lips. He tipped his head back to bare his throat and opened himself up to him a little further even while he replied, “You know, no offense, but that kind of made me sound like a sex puppet.”

“Yeah? That doesn’t sound so bad at all,” Johnny said jokingly, his words followed by an even deeper but still slow thrust.

“I can’t believe you just said that -”

There was another joke on the tip of Johnny’s tongue, but when he moved his hips forward once more and felt the muscles around him tightening, all that came over his lips was a deep, low moan. He sealed T.J.’s lips with his own once more, unable to keep the contact for long when his breath started speeding up along with his movements.

So they fell silent, kissing deeply, messily, their hands meeting and entwining on the pillow left and right of T.J.’s head, hips meeting in increasing pace. Eventually T.J. broke away to let out a moan, over the sound of skin slapping together, and Johnny knew he was getting close, so close that he had to press his eyes shut and bite the inside of his lip to keep himself going.

He reached between their bodies, his hand wrapping around T.J.’s erection to stroke him in rhythm of his thrusts. “God, you feel so good, baby, you know that?”

T.J. shuddered under him, his eyes having fallen shut, lips parted and kissed red. It was in reply to the words, Johnny had known him long enough now to be aware of what kind of effect they never failed to have.

A few more thrusts, and Johnny could feel the tell-tale signs of T.J. getting closer to the edge; only a few more, another sloppy kiss between panted breaths, and finally Johnny felt the tight muscles around him contorting, heard T.J.’s breath hitch before he followed only seconds after.

Still breathing hard, he sank forward, his face buried against T.J.’s shoulder as he came down. They just breathed together for a few long moments, T.J.’s arms slung heavily around Johnny’s shoulders, resting on his back. T.J. let out a quiet, content little hum eventually, and shifted enough that Johnny knew he was supposed to get off so that his boyfriend could stretch.

They cleaned themselves up a bit, as much as Johnny was willing to do without having to move too much or get out of the bed, and finally they settled back down, Johnny on his back with one arm slung around T.J.’s shoulders, enjoying the contact but letting some air cool their heated bodies down.

“Man, it feels great being back home.”

“Well, thank God for that,” T.J. mumbled into Johnny’s shoulder, amusement audible in his voice. He let out a satisfied sigh and slung his arm around Johnny’s waist, nuzzling against his skin. “It _was_ about time.”

“Yeah, it was,” Johnny agreed and kissed T.J.’s forehead. “Too bad you couldn’t be there when I won the race. The party afterwards was really great. You’d have loved it.”

T.J. hummed in reply, his fingertips tracing over the faint outlines of muscles in Johnny’s stomach.

“Looked like fun in the pictures, that’s for sure.”

“It really was,” Johnny replied, placing his hand on top of T.J.’s, thumb caressing his skin. “You know, we could always just go to Budapest together. But… before we make plans for another holiday what did you have in mind for tonight? It’s still a bit early to just stay in bed.”

“Well, first of all,” T.J. replied, pressed a quick kiss to Johnny’s shoulder, and then pushed himself up off the bed, “I’m going to get myself cleaned up. After that, how about some _actual food_ this time around?” he added with a smirk.

“Sounds great. We could order burgers,” Johnny said, sitting up as well.

T.J. was already half out of the room, his hand ruffling up the short hair at the back of his head. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

Swinging his feet over the edge of the mattress, Johnny followed T.J. into the bathroom, where he cleaned himself off with a washcloth.

Johnny’s suit still lay on the floor in front of the shower, and he picked it up to find his phone. But before he could look for the number of the burger place, he saw a text message from a sender whose name he hadn’t read for quite some time.

“I want some dessert too, maybe those lava cakes they’ve got - Johnny?”

Johnny felt a delighted laugh bubbling from his throat, and he looked back at his boyfriend, the phone with the open text message still in his hand. “Oh my God. You remember Mick, the English guy I used to race with? Looks like he’s in town.”

“Yeah… I remember you telling me about him,” T.J. replied, already having stepped into the shower. He only rinsed himself off quickly, one hand rubbing the skin clean between his thighs.

“Man, this is so great,” Johnny said and waited for T.J. to finish, already having sent a reply to Mick and waiting for the next message.

When they went back into the bedroom to get some clothes - just a pair of boxershorts and a tee for Johnny - he heard his phone chime with a new text message and opened it.

“He wants to meet up,” he said, typing on his phone again.

It took a second or two, before a reply from T.J. came. “When?” he wanted to know, a tiny little frown on his face.

“Well, he wanted to meet now,” Johnny replied, a small, sympathetic smile on his lips as he looked back at T.J., “but I told him I just got home and we had plans. Tomorrow night sounds better.”

Another message came in and Johnny started reading. “Great. Bring the…” A snorted chuckle swallowed the last word that he didn’t read out loud. “He wants to meet you too.”

For a moment there was no reply, and when Johnny glanced back over at T.J., he saw how he had raised his eyebrows a little. “Bring the what?”

“Don’t mind him,” Johnny replied on an impulse, reassuring T.J. - and himself - with the grin that was still on his lips that everything was in good humour. He shrugged. “He said ‘bring the wife’. Mick has always been a big joker. And a bit of an idiot.”

T.J. just looked at him for a long moment, his expression, if anything, unimpressed, before he rolled his eyes and turned away to finish tugging his t-shirt over his head.

“So what about the whole ‘we’re going to stay in until Sunday’ thing?”

“Well, but…” Johnny stopped and looked at T.J., feeling like this was one of those moments where he had to choose his words... maybe not carefully, but at least adequately. “That was before I knew an old friend was in town that I haven’t seen in… three years, yeah, Jesus, even more than that. And well, staying in the _whole day_ is a bit boring anyway. Come on, we’ll just meet him for a few drinks, and then you’ll have me all to yourself for the rest of the night,” he ended, giving T.J. his most charming smile.

T.J. listened, and eventually he sighed after just looking at Johnny for a long moment.

“Yeah, okay. Where?”

“No idea yet,” Johnny replied and briefly leaned in to brush a small kiss to the corner of T.J.’s mouth before he typed a reply to his old friend.

“Any preferences or shall I tell him his pick?”

“You know the places I like,” T.J. told him, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down from their earlier activities. “I’ll go take care of the food.”

“Okay, great. Bacon cheeseburger for me,” he said before he finished the text message and then followed T.J. back down into the living room, looking forward to a quiet rest of the night. But he was looking forward to the next one just as much.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the somewhat late update. I promised Tuesday and forgot. Shame on me.   
> Thanks for all the lovely comments! I appreciated them very much.

It was just a few minutes past eight when Johnny and T.J. made it to the venue. The other they initially had meant to meet up at - one of T.J.’s favourite bars - had been packed when Mick had arrived a little early, and so he had texted Johnny and suggested another place where he knew the owner. It was a regular bar, maybe a little rough around the edges, furniture and wooden wall panels a little worn-down, and among a fairly regular, mixed crowd were a bunch of bikers that you probably wouldn’t have found in some of Manhattan’s fancier bars. 

Nevertheless, he tugged T.J. along by the hand, looking out for the familiar face of his old friend. And sure enough, sat at a small table in one corner, was Mick, a bottle of beer in hand and looking in a different direction. 

“There he is,” Johnny said to T.J. and led him along. 

Just a moment later, when they had almost reached the table, Mick spotted them. A wide grin appeared on his face as he got up from his seat, and Johnny felt a similar one spread on his own lips. 

“Wow, I almost didn’t recognise you. You’ve gone bald,” Johnny said before Mick briefly pulled him in for a hug, slapping his back. 

“Not yet, mate, not yet,” Mick said, turning his head and pointing at the shortly trimmed ring of brown hair that went up to the middle of his skull. “But I had to lay off the testosterone shots,” he added before he let out a loud, bark-like laugh. 

Mick was six years older than Johnny, half a head shorter but distinctly wider around the shoulders and midriff. He had gained several pounds since Johnny had last seen him, whether it was muscle or fat was impossible to tell with his black hoodie wipped up over a wide, red t-shirt that, on second glance, looked like a fan jersey of his local soccer team. 

“What about you, mate? You haven’t aged a day. Still a ridiculous pretty-boy.”

“Yeah? You’re just jealous,” Johnny retorted, loving how easily they slipped back into their usual banter. 

“Bloody right I am. All the birds turned their heads when you walked in. Though that’s just casting pearls before swine now.” Finally, Mick turned towards T.J. and reached out his big hand. “And there’s the reason for that. Mick Taylor, good to meet you, mate.”

“Hi,” T.J. replied, taking Mick’s hand in turn and giving him a curt smile in greeting. T.J. was always a little reserved with people he didn’t know, something that had been the case since his teenage years, Johnny was well aware of. For obvious reasons too, he thought.

“Hey!” Mick called in direction of the bar before he put forefinger and thumb in his mouth and whistled loudly. When he had the attention of the barkeeper, he lifted his bottle, indicating the number three with his other hand. Then he took his seat again.

“Beer alright for you? Or did you want something else?” he asked T.J.

“No, sounds good to me. Thanks.” T.J. glanced over at Johnny for a moment before sitting down, leaving the spot next to Mick empty for Johnny, who took it and smacked his old friend on the shoulder once again. 

“It’s really good to see you again, dude.” 

“Likewise. It’s been like… what? Three years? I still haven’t forgiven you about Thruxton, though.” 

Johnny had to laugh and turned to T.J. to explain about the semi professional race they’d participated in, then. Mick had been in the lead, but Johnny had gained on him in the penultimate lap, overtaking him in a tight curve and, consequently, caused him to lose his racing line and drive into the barrier. 

“That was really unfair, mate, and you know it,” Mick complained but grinned, and Johnny gave him a shrug. 

“Everything’s fair in love and war, isn’t it?” 

“War? He’s always taken that racing business a tad too far,” Mick said, leaning closer towards T.J. in a conspiratorial manner, as if Johnny couldn’t hear him.

“Don’t I know.” There was dry amusement in T.J.’s voice as he replied, gaze flickering to Johnny with a small quick of his lips. “Everyone’s got to have their toys.”

“Yeah well, no denying that,” Mick agreed just before the waitress came with their drinks. 

“Well, here’s to that: to boys and their toys,” Mick said, lifting his bottle, and for a second, as he looked over from T.J. to Johnny there was a somewhat dirty smirk on Mick’s lips before he added, “And to old friends. Cheers!” 

“Cheers,” Johnny said and let their bottles clank, meeting T.J.’s a moment later before he took his first sip. 

“So, you haven’t told me yet,” Johnny started, “what brings you to town? Just here for leisure or got some big project going? You see, Mick’s actually an event manager. Not sure I ever told you,” he ended, turning to T.J. 

“You’ve got a club, right?” Mick interjected and, after a moment, T.J. nodded slowly.

“Yeah, I do. But it’s mostly run by my associates these days. What kind of events do work on?”

“As a matter of fact I’ve got a huge club opening coming up. It’s a joint venture with a local guy. Big location over in Brooklyn. So that’s why I’m here,” Mick explained. “The grand opening’s this Friday. You two have got to come.” 

Johnny’s first impulse was to agree, excited about the prospect of a night of partying and supporting an old friend. But before he opened his mouth to reply he remembered what he and T.J. had talked about last night. “Um, well, the thing is--” 

Mick, however, cut him off. “What? You don’t already have plans, do you? You’re really gonna miss out. I’ve got an up and coming dj there, next David Guetta, I’m telling you, the man is brilliant. There are going to be dancers, acrobats and other performers. Of course you’d get access to the VIP lounge. You have to be there, Johnny boy.” 

Johnny let out a soft sigh, having to agree that it did, in fact, sound amazing. He turned towards his boyfriend, a smile on his lips and brows raised in question. “What do you say?”

T.J. didn’t look  _ thrilled _ , that much Johnny could see right away. After the time apart, they had promised each other a couple of days just for themselves, and in the past few years T.J. had cut his time in clubs back considerably as it was. He looked between Mick and Johnny for a moment, lingering for a much longer handful of seconds, a small quirk around the corners of his lips betraying a fight with himself.

“That a ‘yes’? Johnny asked, feeling the smile widen on his own features. 

T.J.’s gaze fell away from his and he shrugged, taking a small sip from his bottle.

“I suppose so.”

“Awesome!” Johnny let out triumphantly, laying an arm around T.J. and briefly pulling him against his side. 

“Great, boys. I’m glad you’re coming. You won’t regret it,” Mick said and raised his bottle in a hinted toast. “So what plans did you have? Another party?”

“Um, no,” Johnny started somewhat sheepishly, “It’s just that I’ve been away for two weeks and we wanted to have a bit of time for ourselves. You know.” 

“Oh. Wow. Those are things I’d have never thought to hear you say. Johnny Storm, foregoing a party to stay at home for some TLC,” Mick laughed and shook his head, and Johnny shrugged in playful apology. “What a hundred birds would have dreamed to achieve, some bloke did. Amazing. You’ve got this one under your thumb good then, eh, T.J.?” 

“That’s not exactly the way I’d put it,” T.J. returned, his voice dry, but his hand did land on Johnny’s thigh more or less casually. “Some people just grow up eventually.”

That, certainly, was true. Johnny had grown up rather a lot over the past few years, and he was somewhat proud of it. He had grown  _ out of _ a few things, too, but that didn’t mean he had grown  _ boring _ . 

“Yeah well, you’re right. Guess even our Johnny boy here does,” Mick agreed good-naturedly, but gave Johnny a light smack on the shoulder. 

“Damn right. And what about you then? Any new Mrs. Taylor in sight?” 

Mick snorted into his beer bottle and shook his head. “Jesus, no. I’m not doing  _ that _ again. Not after the messy divorce I’ve had. No, I’m a free man, and I’m enjoying myself as it is.” 

Johnny decided not to mention that Mick had enjoyed himself a lot as well even  _ while _ he had still been married, but he grinned and nodded. “Alright, married life never really suited you anyway.” 

“No, it bloody well didn’t,” Mick agreed. He looked from Johnny to T.J. again for a longer moment. "You know, I didn't believe it at first when I heard," Mick said, shaking his head again but grinning. "That you'd gone gay. I'd thought I'd see hell freeze over first. No offense to you, mate," he ended at T.J.

Under his arm, T.J. gave a slow, small shrug. He leaned back and sipped on his bottle again, seemingly not intent on giving a real answer.

Johnny didn’t quite know what to say either and shrugged as well. 

“You weren’t gay before,” Mick went on to break the silence. “I’d have noticed. You never tried to get into my pants after all.” 

That made Johnny laugh. “What? You sound disappointed, bro.” 

“Yeah I sorta am!” Mick declared before he laughed as well. “No, mate, I’m just taking the mickey. That would’ve been awkward. No offense. I mean it’s really cool, I support that. But… not my cuppa. The only arse I’d ever be fucking is that of a woman with a backside like one of those Kardashian sisters.” A loud laugh followed his own statement, and he slapped his hand on the surface of the table noisily. 

“Way out of your league, dude,” Johnny said, grinning. 

“Don’t be so sure, mate. You know I know a few celebrities. But I much prefer British women. More tits and more arse. Your American girls are way too skinny.” 

“Bullshit. They aren’t all  _ too skinny _ ,” Johnny replied in mild indignation but amused. 

“Yeah, no. Your sister always had a really great arse,” Mick said, ducking sideways as if he expected a blow. 

“Woah, dude. That’s my sister you’re talking about. You know she’s married right?” 

Mick laughed and leaned back in his seat. “No worries. She’d probably bite off my fingers if I ever laid them on her. That or worse. But I’m just making an observation.” 

Johnny shrugged slightly. “Well, yeah, okay. I guess good genes for an awesome butt run in the family,” he said, smirking as he looked over to T.J. for confirmation, but it was Mick who spoke next, a playfully disbelieving laugh in his tone. 

“You? If you were a girl you’d be all bony and thin. Is he still skipping leg day?” 

“His legs are fine,” T.J. simply replied. He was obviously still following the conversation even if, as Johnny saw now, he had been people-watching.

“See? Nothing wrong with my legs. Or my ass,” Johnny said, giving T.J. a gentle nudge in the side. 

“Yeah? I’ll let your boyfriend be the judge of that,” Mick said. His gaze, too, had drifted in direction of the crowd, and when Johnny followed it he could see a woman with a short black dress walk past their table in direction of the toilets. 

“Nothing wrong with those legs and that arse either,” Mick remarked, brows raised and head slightly crooked as his gaze followed her. 

“Told you it’s bullshit what you said about American girls.” 

Mick shrugged. “Yeah well, she’s black. Black women always have better arses. All firm and round like two giant peaches.” He made a hand gesture as if he was cupping the kinds of buttocks he was describing, a small leer on his features that turned a little wider just as he continued, “My anaconda want some because youuu’ve got buns, hun.” 

Johnny had to laugh again, shaking his head softly and rolling his eyes to himself, and for a short moment he wondered if he had been like that, too, while he’d still been single. 

“Not to disappoint you, dude, but I think she’s here with her boyfriend,” he said, nodding towards the bar where a well-dressed and very attractive black guy was sitting and sipping on a glass of wine. 

“Might just be her brother,” Mick said, the smirk on his features betraying that he knew it was most likely just a delusion. “But I’m gonna find out. Shots for the three of us? Tequila?” he asked as he got up from his seat. 

“Tequila’s fine. Right?” Johnny said, looking at T.J. for confirmation. 

“Sure.”

T.J. didn’t get to say more than that before Mick was already off, but it didn’t look like he cared about saying more to him either. Instead he emptied his beer, turned his head towards Johnny, and kissed him.

It came a little bit out of the blue, but Johnny felt himself smiling at the contact and kissed T.J. back with the same enthusiasm. For a small moment, there was a thought in the back of his mind that, should Mick turn and look in their direction, it’d be the first time he’d see Johnny kiss a guy, and that thought was just the tiniest bit awkward… in an amusing sort of way. It changed and instead made him wish he could see Mick’s face right now. 

“Enjoying yourself a bit at least?” he asked when their lips parted.

“Been worse,” T.J. returned with a little half shrug, a small smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. His gaze had dropped to Johnny’s lips again, and he was still close, and eventually he drew his head back to sit comfortably in his seat again.

“But Mick’s a fun guy, huh?” Johnny asked, hopeful, and received a reply immediately.

“He’s a dick,” T.J. said, not even pausing, “but as long as you’re having fun.”

Johnny didn’t quite know how T.J. meant it, but decided to let out a small laugh. “Yeah well, he can be a bit of a dick sometimes. But… you know. He doesn’t mean any harm,” he said as he saw the woman Mick had set his eyes on come back out of the bathroom and walk towards the bar. 

T.J. hummed out a reply but didn’t comment. Instead a small smile flickered over his lips and he said, “Hey, remember those little sweets that they stopped selling? Anne called me yesterday, she actually found them again and got me three bags.”

In the back of his mind, Johnny wasn’t quite satisfied with the non-answer, wondering what made T.J. so averse to Mick who had been nothing but open and welcoming to him. Sure, his somewhat dickish macho antics probably weren’t to everyone’s taste, but he knew Mick was a great guy, fun and generous and definitely a good sport. 

Nevertheless, Johnny decided to drop the subject and play along with the change of topic. “Really? That’s great. Just… don’t eat all three of them at once,” he said teasingly, making T.J. roll his eyes, even though this time, the corners of his mouth were twitching.

“Very funny. I know I’m not good at impulse control, but at least that I think I can manage.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to roll around on the floor, clutching your belly and wishing to die,” Johnny replied and grabbed one of the peanuts from the little bowl in the middle of the table. 

Mick returned a short moment later, a salt shaker and three tequila glasses in his hands, a slice of lemon on top of each one. 

“Good thing I know Alan, the owner. Four quid for a shot of tequila? Manhattan bar prices are just as nuts as in London’s Westside.”

“As if you couldn’t afford it,” Johnny said with an eyeroll, and Mick gave him a shrug. 

“Doesn’t mean I enjoy wasting my hard earned cash on cheap liquor. I’m a simple working class bloke after all. That’s something Johnny boy here and I have in common, you know? We both didn’t grow up rich.”

“You didn’t miss out,” T.J. replied somewhat casually, accepting the glass of tequila with the lemon slice. “Thanks.”

Johnny knew Mick had accidentally put his foot in his mouth with that comment. He wouldn’t have thought much of it, had it not been for his and T.J.’s previous conversation about him. 

“You know, T.J. grew up kinda rich and turned out more than alright,” he said, prompting Mick to amend his statement. He looked back at Johnny a little cluelessly for a moment before he seemed to catch on. 

"Gosh, mate, I'm so sorry. That really wasn't meant as a jab at you. I completely forgot. But you know, there are people who've always had money but are modest and down-to-earth, and then there are those that are spoilt rotten to the core. You definitely don't strike me as one of the latter." 

This time Mick’s words coaxed a smile out of T.J. He accepted the apology with a nod, adding, “Don’t worry about it. Are we gonna drink this now or what?”

“We are,” Mick replied, drizzling salt on his hand and lifting his glass with the other. “To old and new friends, then. Cheers!” 

“Cheers,” Johnny replied, followed by T.J. before they drowned their shots.

The evening wore on like that, getting more relaxed after the second round of tequila. They talked about Mick’s latest business deals, about T.J.’s concerts (which Mick had actually been interested in hearing about), and about his and Johnny’s racing days, the one or other funny anecdote from that time causing lots of amusement. And Johnny thought, despite T.J.’s earlier comment, they got along quite well. 

It was nearly midnight when they took their leave, waiting for the opportunity to hail a cab as they stepped out of the bar and onto the main street. Johnny had his arm around T.J., holding him close to steady his step, tired and tipsy as he was, and to warm him in the chilly October wind. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly faster update this time. I'll post one more chapter on Wednesday, if all goes well, but then you'll have to wait nearly two weeks for the next one as I'll be on holiday (scuba diving in Egypt ^^). Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks again for all your lovely comments!! <3

 

It was really one of the best parties Johnny had ever attended in his whole life, and even though he had hardly expected anything different, he had to admit that Mick had absolutely outdone himself. The venue was a perfect mix of glamorous and industrial, the bar hosted some of the best and most professional barkeepers Johnny had ever seen, and the performances kept the audience enthralled between longer periods of danceable music (and yes, the DJ could very well be the next big thing; Johnny had to admit that as well). 

The VIP lounge, overlooking the dancefloor from a half-open gallery, was filled with people of various degrees of importance and fame: other club owners, big names in business and art, models and fashion designers, actors and actresses. 

In their corner, sitting on the comfortable leather sofas and chairs arranged around a large coffee table, Johnny and T.J. were in company of an Indycar driver and his girlfriend, a business guy (though Johnny had forgotten what kind of business exactly he made millions with), and his three female companions (who, in all likelihood, were models). Mick himself was busy attending to his guests and spending time with at least the most important ones. 

“So tell me, what’s it like being a real life superhero?” one of the girls, Alina, asked. She was Czech and spoke with a distinguishable accent, and she was also extremely beautiful, with long golden brown hair and green eyes. 

“It’s pretty awesome,” Johnny replied, “to know you can make a difference and help where nobody else can.” 

“I bet it’s dangerous, too,” she said, leaning a bit closer. 

“Oh well, not really,” Johnny played it down. “Not when you know what you’re doing.” 

Alina laughed, her eyebrows going up a little. “So  _ do  _ you always know what you’re doing?”

“Not always, but I’m damn good at improvising,” Johnny replied, a smirk readily on his lips before he brought them to his glass of vodka and Red Bull.

“I have no trouble believing that,” she replied, no-nonsense, and took a sip of her own drink. “And always in a rather spectacular fashion too.”

Johnny let out a slightly bashful laugh before he raised his gaze to meet hers again. “Yeah well, we aren’t  _ super _ heroes for nothing. Otherwise we’d be mediocre heroes, and that just sounds dumb.” 

This time, it was her friend, whose name Johnny had forgotten, who replied, one carefully groomed, dark eyebrow raised at him. “That’s probably not a good way of putting it. As if being a hero isn’t enough anymore, don’t you think?”

“She’s not wrong,” T.J. commented next to him.

“Come on, you know how I meant it,” Johnny replied in mild indignation. He had just wanted to make a pun. “We’ve got those super powers that nobody else has. Of course it’s gotta be spectacular.”

“Well,  _ I’m _ not mad about it,” the woman laughed, but her attention was pulled away by the third girl, their conversation lost over the loud music.

T.J. took the opportunity, it seemed, and leaned close, nestling his chin on Johnny’s shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Johnny replied and put a hand on T.J.’s knee, squeezing it gently. “Seriously, at least  _ you _ should get my jokes by now,” he added, lips in a much more playful than seriously reproachful pout.

T.J. shrugged. “Who said I didn’t?” he said and smirked softly as Johnny rolled his eyes at him. T.J. looked around for a moment, a small sigh suppressed before he turned his gaze back. “You ready to go home soon?”

That took Johnny by surprise and he automatically leaned back to look at his boyfriend. “Seriously? It’s still early. And we haven’t even properly hung around with Mick yet. He said he’d be here later once he’s finished shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries.”

For a brief moment there was a look on T.J.’ face that was hard to decipher, and it vanished again quickly, replaced by something more blank.

“We’ve been here for hours already.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Johnny stopped, not quite sure what the problem was. T.J. wasn’t usually one to get tired at a party or night of clubbing early, and Johnny really wanted to stay a while longer, but he also didn’t quite want to get into an argument because of it. He put on a small smile and a look that usually worked at getting him what he wanted, instead. “Come on, just a little bit longer until Mick gets back. I haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gonna be busy again after this. Should I go get you a coke? Coffee?”

T.J. looked back at him for a long moment, before eventually Johnny could see him let out a sigh.

“No, it’s fine. Alright. Until he gets back then?”

The only reply Johnny gave him was a kiss on the lips, letting the contact linger for a few seconds. 

Mick didn’t come back for a while. Instead, Patrick - the business owner - was joined by two friends of his and another woman, and their corner got rather crowded. It reminded Johnny a lot of his partying days years ago when he was still perpetually single and flirting with every attractive woman that crossed his path. Of course, that part was different now, though the latest addition to their group, who turned out to be one of the new guys’ sister and not his girlfriend, was quite the temptation in that regard. Long, dark-brown hair, dark eyes, fine features and an air of confidence and intelligence that would have turned every guy’s head. 

Johnny loved T.J., and he was happy with him, not feeling like there was anything he needed that T.J. couldn’t give him. But Johnny had also  _ loved _ some benign flirting, just testing the effect he could have on a woman without there being anything that needed to happen as a result. Even though T.J. had never been the jealous type, Johnny didn’t feel like he should or could go through with it the way he would have liked because… that would have been just weird, right? Flirting with a  _ girl _ while your  _ boy _ friend was sitting right next to you. 

And so, instead of giving in to the temptation and answering Nea’s subtle attempts to catch his attention, he kept his hand intertwined with T.J.’s and contented himself with the knowledge that she  _ did _ find him attractive.

T.J., at least, seemed to recognize his effort. He didn’t look put off, didn’t eye them with a frown, but he did seem distracted. Or tired. At least he didn’t talk much, kept sipping on his drink, and didn’t look interested in joining in with the conversations going on - and so the others mostly left him alone.

The waitress came by again, a tray with the three-coloured signature longdrink in one hand, offering it to the group. “Can I get you guys anything else?” 

“What do you say here? Go big or go home,” Alexis, Nea’s brother said in his thick Greek accent. “Bring us a magnum bottle of your best champagne, darling. It’s a bit early, but we’ve got something to celebrate, too.”

“That’s right. We’re opening a club in Ibiza next spring. Mick is on board as well. He’s just amazing at finding the best locations and setting up the concept,” she said, letting her gaze roam around their current location appreciatively. 

“Ibiza? That’s great,” Johnny said. 

Alexis nodded, a grin on his lips. “It is. The party never stops. It’s like spring break from April to October. Just the people are way more sophisticated than over here. No offense. And the girls are hotter.” 

Nea rolled her eyes at her brother but gave him an amused and affectionate smile, which reminded Johnny a bit of Sue and himself. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with American women. Why do you guys keep saying that?” Johnny asked, playfully defensive. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with our chicks, Alex?” Patrick asked, “Last time I checked you had great fun with some of them last weekend.” 

“Oh, not in New York or L.A., but outside of those cities people are way too fat here. Too much of that junk food. You know, I’m Greek. I was raised on my Mama’s fresh cooking, and our town doesn’t even have a McDonald’s.”

“What? No McDonald’s?” Patrick asked incredulously. “Proves how backwards your country is.” That earned him a shove in the shoulder, though Patrick’s laughter showed it was all in good humour. 

“We may be a corrupt and disorganised country, but we’re not backwards. And most of all not when it comes to our food.”

Next to Alexis, Nea chuckled softly and turned to Johnny and T.J. again. “Here comes the great lecture on how none of us would be here and enjoy the perks of democracy if it weren’t for our nation’s achievements.”

“Again, not wrong,” T.J. murmured next to Johnny. He was reaching up, offering his empty glass to the waitress who had just returned, and getting a champagne glass in return.

“You know, we haven’t sent out the VIP invites for the grand opening yet, since we don’t have a fixed date for it,” Nea said with a soft chuckle. “If you want to, you can come.” 

“Really? That’d be awesome. Wouldn’t it?” Johnny squeezed T.J.’s knee lightly as he looked over at him.

This time T.J. only looked back at him instead of replying, and although his face looked even enough, Johnny knew his boyfriend well enough to be able to tell that he really, really didn’t agree.

“We don’t really have any plans yet, do we?” he asked, voice lowered a bit to only ask T.J. while, across from them, Patrick complained loudly that he had not been asked first.

“‘m not going,” T.J. murmured back just as quietly, reinforcing his words with a subtle, tiny shake of his head.

Johnny looked at T.J., utterly perplexed and wondering whether he had missed something important. But no matter how much he racked his brain, Johnny was sure there were no plans for next spring, so he was at a complete loss. “You’re not banned from going to… Spain, too, are you?” he tried, already thinking that that could not be it. 

For a moment T.J. looked confused, but then he let out a huff and shook his head.

“No. Just - Look, it’s been ages, I’m tired. If you want to stay, stay, but I want to go home.”

Johnny let out a soft sigh and looked around, trying to find Mick in the crowd of people but unable to spot him. “You probably should have had some caffeine earlier instead of more alcohol if it makes you that tired.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” T.J. replied immediately, looking away with a subtle roll of his eyes, raising his glass to take a sip.

Johnny had no idea what anything had to do with  _ any _ thing at the moment, and another comment was on the tip of his tongue about how T.J.  _ had _ said he was tired, and that booze wasn’t exactly helpful in that regard, but he decided to let it go, not wanting to sound patronising or to start a debate on principles when at least one of them was drunk and cranky from sleepiness. 

“Fine, just give me five minutes and let me try to find Mick,” he said instead, resigned.

“Good luck,” T.J. mumbled in return, his voice dry.

“Thanks,” Johnny replied, mildly irritated and disappointed that he couldn’t enjoy the evening with T.J. for a little while longer as he got up and left their corner. 

It took him a while, but eventually he did find Mick who was equally disappointed when Johnny told him they were about to leave, though there was a grin spreading on his lips as he laid a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Wow, leaving a party before five in the morning? You’re getting old, mate.”

“Funny. No, it’s actually T.J., he’s tired.” 

“Oh,” Mick replied, his brows going up a notch. “Yeah, I remember what that’s like. The wife used to be like that all the time. No fun.” 

“Hey, T.J.’s not like that,” Johnny replied immediately, all humour gone and rather offended on his boyfriend’s behalf. “He’s just… I dunno. We all have those days sometimes, don’t we?” 

“Oh yeah. Though, my wife had them once a month and was completely insufferable then,” Mick said and, at obviously seeing Johnny’s gaze darkening somewhat, lifted his hands. “I  _ am _ joking, mate. And just saying maybe you’re lucky you don’t have to deal with  _ that _ .” 

“You’re such a douchebag sometimes, you know that?” Johnny replied, rolling his eyes but unable to be mad at Mick for more than a second. 

“Douchebag and proud. I should get that on a t-shirt. Now, off you go, Johnny boy,” he said, slapping Johnny’s back. “Bring your sweetheart to bed. I’ll be in town again for a while after next week, so we’ll keep in touch.”

“We will,” Johnny said and leaned in for a brief hug. “Awesome event, by the way.” 

“Thanks, mate. Laters!” 

“Yeah, later.” 

It must have been a little more than five minutes, maybe ten or so, when Johnny returned to the lounge corner, and found T.J. getting to his feet the moment he spotted him, slipping into his jacket. He gave the others a smile and what must be words of parting Johnny couldn’t yet catch over the music as he came closer.

“Just one minute,” Johnny said, feeling mildly annoyed at T.J.’s sudden haste. He quickly said his goodbyes to the others, too, told Nea to ask Mick for his number to keep in touch about Ibiza and wished them all a fun night as he jogged towards T.J. and followed him through the crowds of people out of the club. 

On the street, taxis were already waiting in line, and they got into the first one. 

“You’re really tired, huh?” Johnny asked, feeling somewhat awkward trying to start a conversation.

“Yeah,” T.J. replied briefly. His temple was resting against the window, gaze on the outside somewhere. “Sorry it cut your night short.”

And that softened him up a bit, and Johnny laid an arm around T.J.’s shoulders, pulling him a little closer against him. “It’s okay.” 

After a moment where he seemed a little surprised to be pulled away from the window, T.J. settled against him, relaxing slowly. He leaned his head back against Johnny’s shoulder and closed his eyes, breathing out slowly.

“Okay.”

~*~

It had turned warmer again that week, even a bit too warm for late October, but Johnny was enjoying the sunshine that streamed in through the big glass wall into the living room. He was lounging on their huge sofa, his tablet on his knees and a big glass of iced tea on the coffee table, wondering whether he should go make one for T.J. as well. He should be here anytime now, and Johnny just so resisted the urge to text him about it. 

It only took another ten minutes or so until he heard the key in the apartment door, and, a moment later, it clicking shut again. There was shuffling in the hall, but T.J. wasn’t calling out like he usually did, a muffled thud like a bag hitting the floor sounding instead.

A second later T.J. appeared in the living room, his hair slightly ruffled, a slump in his shoulders.

“Hey. Gonna go shower.”

Johnny was on his feet already, jogging to cut T.J. off on his way to the stairs. “Hey, wait a second. Don’t I get a kiss hello?”

T.J. looked up at him, a little harried, and leaned over to press their lips together briefly.

“Sorry - hey.”

Johnny gave him a smile, one hand on his upper arm. “Good thing you mentioned the shower. I’m gonna join right in because… guess who’s invited us for dinner tonight? At what’s supposedly the best Greek restaurant in all of Manhattan.” 

For a moment T.J. just stared at him.

“What?”

“Yeah. Nea texted me earlier. She and her brother are still in town and asked us to join them,” Johnny explained, but T.J. let out a breath, almost a huff, dragged a hand over his face and shook his head.

“Okay… you go. I can’t, not today. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, why not? What’s up?” Johnny asked, suddenly starting to puzzle together the pieces of T.J.’s behaviour and getting the picture that something must be wrong.

“Just -” T.J. took another deep breath, half sigh, half shrugging, not quite looking at Johnny. “There was a misunderstanding, I’m not doing the concert at the vernissage after all.”

“Aww, oh no,” Johnny said, feeling a wave of sympathy towards his boyfriend. He brought his hand to T.J.’s neck, thumb caressing his skin in a comforting gesture before he leaned in and brushed another soft kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry. But hey, you’ve still got other gigs lined up.” Johnny knew that T.J. had been looking forward to this one, though he could hardly tell why it was so special to him among all the others he’d been having lately. Nevertheless, he really did feel bad for him. 

“Yeah, I know.” It sounded a little flat though, and after a moment T.J. drew away. “Really, I need a shower.”

“Okay, but…” Johnny grasped T.J.’s hand to prevent him from going upstairs just yet, not wanting to let him leave in such a desolate mood. “Don’t you think a little distraction will do you good then? Come on, some great food and good company. Would be a shame to pass it up.” 

“No, seriously.” T.J. shook his head, half turned back to look at him. “I can’t do this today, I’m going to explode in their faces.”

Johnny wasn’t quite sure he understood what T.J. meant, and although part of him knew he should just let it go, or at least let T.J. get that shower first, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“It’s  _ exhausting _ ,” T.J. replied immediately, throwing his hands up. “It’s just fucking exhausting, and all I want today is a bit of peace and quiet.”

That still didn’t make a lot of sense, and Johnny looked at him with furrowed brow. “Since when is going out for dinner with some friends exhausting?” he asked with a soft chuckle in his words.

But T.J. didn’t look at all like he had any patience for this. His hand came up and he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbed his eyes.

“ _ Your _ friends. They’re your friends, Johnny, and they’re fun for you, but for me they’re exhausting.”

“But… what the hell’s exhausting about them? They’re fun!”

“That’s what I just -” T.J. didn’t finish his sentence, shaking his head instead. “Look - they’re your friends, that’s fine, all good. They’re not my kind of people, okay? Not my kind of fun.”

“Why? What’s wrong with them?” Johnny wanted to know, not understanding how they were so different from many of the people T.J. used to hang out with before he moved to New York.

“God, can I please just  _ go shower _ instead of having to play twenty questions?” T.J. shot back instead of answering, patience having entirely left his voice.

And Johnny, too, felt his temper rising, not understanding what had prompted a reaction like this. “Jesus, T.J., if you're frustrated over not getting that gig don't take it out on me. I just wanted us to have a nice evening together.”

“Oh,  _ now _ you want that,” T.J. murmured, sounding like he couldn’t help himself.

“Well… yeah!” Johnny said in exasperation. “It’s not my fault that your and my ideas of a nice evening were  _ so _ different. I thought we could go out, enjoy a nice meal, have a few drinks… what’s so fucking wrong about that?”

T.J. finally looked at him again, eyes narrowed, and the way he breathed out sounding a little like a huff to Johnny. “You really have forgotten that once upon a time we’d talked about having a nice evening together, here, just the two of us, right?”

Johnny really couldn’t rein himself in any longer. Arms thrown in the air in frustration, he groaned out and rolled his eyes. “If we’d planned that, yeah. But we haven’t. We haven’t made any plans for tonight. How the hell am I supposed to  _ know _ , before you get here and  _ tell _ me that you wanted a quiet evening tonight? I’m not a fucking mind reader, you know?” 

“Oh, and suddenly that  _ matters _ ? The other times when we had planned it, and you suddenly came around with going out and meeting those friends of yours. That doesn’t count then?” T.J. shot back, colour rising on his cheeks as always when he was angry.

“Are you serious right now? We  _ talked _ about those times! You  _ agreed _ !” Johnny shot back, anger making his heart race. “You’re painting it as if I’d dragged you there and left you no choice.”

“I did it for  _ you _ , Johnny, because you were so intent on meeting that ‘old friend’ of yours! Just like the time after that! And I’m sorry, but in case you haven’t noticed, I didn’t exactly enjoy the company of your friends. But you didn’t really, did you? Because otherwise you wouldn’t have kept  _ asking _ !”

“Oh wow, thank you so much for  _ allowing _ me to see an old friend. How very generous of you,” Johnny replied, noticing how his voice was still raised, and dripping with sarcasm. He didn’t believe what he was hearing, didn’t know how to respond to every point T.J. had tried to make, every point in which he was so damned wrong. Underneath the anger that had risen, he felt disappointment that T.J. was actually using this against him now, something that should be a given and not be weighed against the time they spend together. He had to think of what Mick had said about his ex-wife, and quite suddenly, unexpectedly, a small jolt of fear nested itself in the back of his mind that it would really turn out like that, with T.J. judging him for whom he wanted to hang out with and either preventing him from doing so or blaming him for it later. As was happening right now. 

“I’m not ‘allowing’ you anything,” T.J. shot back, “you can do whatever you want. I’m not being sarcastic, go see them. I just want a shower and the couch and some takeout tonight.”

"Well, fine then!" Johnny more shouted than said despite the admission, turning around on his heel but turning back once more. "And I  _ am  _ going."

He could see something flicker over T.J.’s face for a moment, jaw subtly clenching, before he turned away as well, finally continuing walking up the stairs.

“Great. Have fun.”

"Thank you," Johnny said with all the sarcasm he could put into those words, before he continued, a little more truthfully, "I will."

He didn’t get an answer, and could only watch T.J. vanish through the bathroom door.

  
  


~*~

  
  


The dinner with Nea and Alex had been fun, the food delicious, and for most of the evening Johnny had been able to forget his little fight with T.J. and enjoy himself. He still didn’t understand what had made T.J. dislike these two so much, though. Sure, Alex was a boorish kind of guy with a dirty sense of humour who didn’t mince his words, but so were plenty of other people they had met and spent time with. So was Johnny, himself, to an extent, and it made no sense to him why T.J. was making such a fuss about it. Maybe they’d just gotten off on the wrong foot, and T.J. was going to change his mind about them next time. 

When Johnny got home, a lot later than anticipated since they had enjoyed the excellent hospitality of the Greek restaurant owner, the lights in their apartment were already switched off and T.J. obviously already in bed. Johnny was not tired yet, slightly tipsy, yes (from several ouzos on the house that he had swallowed down with a grimace), but he did not yet want to go to sleep. 

He switched on the TV, finding must be a repeat of a motocross race, and went into the kitchen to pour himself some water. The first bottle in the fridge was almost empty and he threw it out, almost closing the door of the trash cabinet already when his eyes spotted something that made him take a second look. There, at the bottom of the container for glass, he saw an empty bottle of Scotch, a rather expensive one on top that he had gotten months ago as gift of gratitude after a successful mission. It had hardly been a quarter empty, last time he’d seen it in their bar. 

Johnny took the bottle out and eyed it for a moment, wondering whether T.J. had spontaneously had someone over. But who could it have been, other than someone of their mutual friends or maybe a neighbour? There were also no used glasses in the dishwasher or anywhere on the counter. That left only one explanation, and Johnny didn’t like it one bit. Sure, they both enjoyed a good drink every now and then, but drinking alone, at home, and in such quantities wasn’t exactly normal. 

He stood there for a long moment, torn between guilt and annoyance and battling with himself whether he should confront T.J. with it the next day or not, but he came to no result. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, as promised, chapter 4. Hope you enjoy it (and the 90s throwback ^^)   
> One more thing about the askblog at the end of the chapter.

When Johnny got home after his workout late that Saturday morning, he found T.J. sitting on the couch, a book in his lap. He barely acknowledged Johnny entering, seemingly absorbed in his reading, though that might very well be just a ploy. It had been like this all of yesterday, with minimal conversation and separate activities, and Johnny had had enough of it.

Of course, the whole thing wasn't his fault alone. Johnny still didn't even understand how everything had escalated that quickly - or why such a rather small fight had led to one and a half days of silence - but it didn't matter in hindsight. What did matter was resolving the issue and to stop acting like sulking teenagers (or worse, strangers) around each other. And so, after having dropped his gym bag at the foot of the stairs, Johnny walked over to T.J. and sat down next to him.

"Hey."

“Hey,” T.J. replied, the book still in his hands and gaze not leaving the pages. So far, the tone of his voice was no indicator of the mood he was in, but Johnny was determined to figure it out. 

He slid a little closer and put one hand on the back of the couch. “Let’s not fight anymore, okay?” he said, aiming for his voice to sound gentle and encouraging, a smile on his lips as he tilted his head. 

T.J. saw it, looked at him at last, if only briefly. There was no reply coming from him for a few more seconds as his focus returned to his book. Then, he released a soft breath that sounded something between resigned and approving. “Okay.” 

It was a somewhat awkward reconciliation, and Johnny wondered whether he should apologise - whether T.J. wanted to  _ hear _ an apology from him. But no matter how often Johnny replayed the dispute in his mind, he couldn’t really find something he outright ought to apologise for and found it was all more of a case of talking themselves in a frenzy with no actual reason. They both had overreacted; both hadn't properly approached the topic, and if it were up to him, he’d be more than willing to just bury the hatchet and forget about it all. 

“Whatcha reading?” he tried, testing the waters. 

T.J. released another half-sigh and lifted the book up, back turned out towards Johnny for him to read the cover. ‘ _ The Kind Worth Killing _ ’ by Peter Swanson. 

“What’s it about?” 

“Uh… it’s about these two strangers who meet on a train and start to plot the murder of the guy’s wife,” T.J. replied, and this time he didn’t resume reading. Forefinger between the pages, he left the book on his thigh and looked back at Johnny. 

“Sounds suspenseful. Already getting into that Halloween spirit?” Johnny asked, giving T.J. a small grin. He was relieved to see it returned, if only as a faint quirk around his lips. 

“Not that Halloween-like but yeah, if you want to call it that.” 

“Shame. Read something like Bram Stoker’s Dracula next time. Or Frankenstein.” 

This time, there was a soft, amused huff coming from T.J., and the ice really seemed to be broken. Johnny put his hand to the back of T.J.’s neck, thumb caressing the skin just below his hairline gently as he leaned in even a bit closer, their foreheads almost touching. “So we’re good now?”

There was a small pause before the reply - just a small nod - but T.J. did lean in, letting their foreheads touch and meeting Johnny halfway for a gentle kiss. 

“I’m sorry for how that whole conversation went.” The words came out rather spontaneously than with careful consideration, and Johnny felt something in his chest shift, both tight and warm, like the last gasp of the tension that had hung between them, paired with the relief of making up. And whatever the reason of their fight, it really did not matter anymore to him. 

The feeling became even lighter when T.J. raised his hand to put it on the back of Johnny’s neck, eyelids falling shut when he said, “Me too.”

Johnny gave him a smile and leaned in once more for a short kiss. “So, speaking about scary things - the book I mean… Are you ready for that Halloween party? Nicky texted me earlier and said we should be there at least two hours before it starts.” He made a grimace in mock-fearful anticipation. 

“Because of the costumes?” T.J. asked and Johnny nodded. 

“Yeah, and she said something about her and Karen having watched hours worth of makeup tutorials. So I’m thinking they’re planning on practicing for a new career as film makeup artists or something. I hope they’re not going to put any hair on my face.”

“Why not?” T.J. asked, an amused expression clearly visible on his features. “I think it would look hilarious.”

“See that’s the point. I don’t want to be a  _ hilarious _ werewolf. I want to be a hot one.”

“I don’t think those two things are mutually exclusive,” T.J. replied, smirking softly, to which Johnny gave a snort and rolled his eyes. 

“Easy for you to say. There’ll be nothing hilarious about you being a vampire, unless they’re aiming for the Leslie Nielson version.”

“You’ll look great,” T.J. said placatingly and finally placed his book on the seat next to him. “I have full confidence in Nicky and Karen’s makeup abilities. Besides, you’ll always be hot to me.” 

Johnny suppressed a snort of laughter, sure to have heard a hint of mockery in T.J.’s tone, but he was going to play oblivious. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” 

“So, any idea what the others are dressing up as? The girls are not doing everyone’s outfits, are they?” T.J. wanted to know. He shifted slightly, one knee on the seating and the other leg swung over his ankle while one arm came up to the back of the couch to mirror Johnny’s position. 

“Actually it sounded like they were. Jared’s gonna be Jekyll and Hyde, Kyle a mummy and Adil the Phantom of the Opera.”

Johnny had expected another chuckle, possibly a roll of T.J.’s eyes, but what he found instead was his boyfriend staring at him with a wide-eyed gaze for several seconds before a laugh bubbled from his chest and he leaned forward to bury his face against Johnny’s shirt for a moment, back rising and falling with giggles. 

“What? Am I missing something?” Johnny asked, confused. 

T.J. raised his head again and gave him a look that plainly said ‘seriously?’ without having to utter the words, but Johnny was still at a loss. 

“Oh my God,” T.J. released between more chuckles. “This seriously doesn’t ring a bell?” 

Johnny shook his head, starting to fear what the resolution would be. 

“No late 90s boyband music video coming to mind?” T.J. tried, brows lifted in encouragement before he started to softly hum a melody that  _ did, _ in fact, sound familiar. 

And finally it clicked, and Johnny groaned out, wanting to bang his forehead against something but finding only T.J.’s shoulder. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t immediately get it,” T.J. said, gently patting Johnny’s back and nudging him to look back up again. 

“Well, I obviously wasn’t as much of a Backstreet Boys fan as you!” he retorted defensively, amusement deliberately audible in his tone and visible on his face despite the accusing words. 

“They were everywhere in the late 90s. Hard to miss,” T.J. said, shrugging softly. “But… oh God. Text Nicky right now that I’m  _ not _ wearing a long wig and doing Howie’s version of Dracula, under any circumstances.” 

“Wow, you even know their names. Nerd,” Johnny said and, instead of sending the prompted text message, was tempted to google the video on his phone because he couldn’t quite bring up the image of what the Dracula guy had looked like in it. 

T.J. didn’t even dignify the last accusation with a reply. Instead, his hand was caressing the back of Johnny’s neck, obviously enjoying the familiar intimacy as much as Johnny did. The message was sent a moment later, and Johnny let his phone drop onto the couch seat, turning towards his boyfriend fully. “Such trolls, those two. Really. Making us dress up as a boyband. I hope we’re not supposed to reenact the video or something.” 

“Oh, I bet they’re at least gonna try,” T.J. replied, amused. 

“Yeah, let them try. No way I’m doing that dance,” Johnny said adamantly. 

“Spoil sport,” T.J. teased and Johnny rolled his eyes once more. 

“I bet you’d like that. You didn’t conspire with them and have been in on it the whole time?” Johnny asked, knowing full well that the answer would be no. Maybe T.J. would have been a good actor if he’d ever pursued a career as one, but he wasn’t  _ that _ good. As expected, he only got another ‘seriously’ look as reply again and had to admit defeat. 

“Who was your favourite Backstreet Boy?” he asked instead. 

T.J. pursed his lips in contemplation, gaze lowered for a moment and a hint of a shrug lifting his shoulders. “In hindsight I’d say Howie, but back then it was mostly Brian.” 

“Brian? Which one was that again?” Johnny asked, only really remembering the name and face of Nick because the girl he had had a crush on back in high school had a huge poster of him in her room. 

“The werewolf,” T.J. replied, a small smirk playing around the corners of his lips. 

Johnny felt a grin form on his own lips, a cocky, amused mood spreading in his chest that spontaneously prompted him to throw his head back and howl. 

That had T.J. laughing again, shaking his head before he let it sink onto the backrest. His eyes were glistening with humour, little crinkles around them that made them shine even brighter and his lips spread around a wide smile that didn’t seem to fade, and Johnny was so, so glad to see him like this again because, even before the fight, he hadn’t really for quite a while. 

“So, should I wear a ring of garlic around my neck tonight or am I safe from your vampire bite?” 

“You are such a dork, you know that?” T.J. asked, affection stronger in his words than even his amusement. 

“I do,” he replied almost solemnly, before he leaned down and sealed the smile on T.J’s lips with a kiss. 

 

***

 

So it was a 90s throwback party, T.J. wasn’t in the least bit surprised. Nicky and Karen had really put a lot of effort into every detail, from the music selection, which was ridiculous but fun (and most of the guests seemed to remember more of the songs than they’d like to admit), to the buffet that was stacked with spooky and in some cases gory looking dishes, like sausages halves with thin chips of radish for fingernails and ketchup at the cut, or a fruit cake in shape of a brain. But the best part of it were the costumes, as predicted with five of the male guests dressed up like the Backstreet Boys in the infamous music video. Kyle as a mummy had been pretty easy and Adil, luckily, had done his own styling (and an amazing job of it) as a phantom of the opera like character. Jared had been in costume and full makeup before T.J. and Johnny had arrived and looked menacing as a half-Jekyll, half-Hyde, though the poor guy had also been complaining about how much the layers of makeup on his face itched. 

Johnny looked, in a word, ridiculous as half-transformed werewolf. His hair was ruffled up in messy spikes and tousles and fake sideburns glued to his cheeks, and he was wearing fake teeth that had been fitted with a special kind of putty which made it a bit hard for him to eat any of the snacks, and gave him a kind of muffled, slightly slurred speech. 

T.J. himself felt, surprisingly, rather comfortable (and wig-less) in his own Dracula-like outfit with an elegant cape and only two vampire fangs that definitely weren’t in the way too much. Both Karen and Nicky were very pleased with the product of their efforts, though, so far, Jared and Johnny had refused vigorously to reenact the dance from the video. There was only so much they were willing to indulge them with. Adil was somewhat on the fence on the topic, Kyle was all for it, and T.J. found the thought kind of amusing. Who knew what the evening would bring. 

By six o’clock, almost all other guests had arrived, and the large living room was filled with a good twenty people, most of them friends and colleagues of Nicky and Jared’s. Occasionally, the doorbell rang and kids from the apartment block or other houses around came for trick-or-treating, which Kyle took over most of the time, making rather ridiculous boo-hoo noises at the kids who had the audacity to giggle rather than quiver in fear at the scary mummy. 

T.J. could not remember when he’d last had such a good time at a party. 

“This party bites,” he could hear his boyfriend behind him just after T.J. had finished talking to a colleague of Jared’s dressed up as an one-eyed pirate. He had gone to join his wife again who was trying to avoid slapping people or throwing things off of tables with the mermaid tail attached to her hand every time she moved. 

“You’re only complaining because you can’t eat anything,” T.J. said as he turned around and laid an arm around Johnny’s waist. The pout on the supposedly scary werewolf face made him chuckle instantly. 

“I’m hungry. And I kinda want to kiss you. You look super hot, you know that?” 

“Hm, do I?” T.J. replied, his second hand coming around to rest on Johnny’s hip, and a small smile on his lips that he knew looked sultry as he let his gaze travel down from Johnny’s eyes to his mouth. It was not that easy to keep it up and not burst out in laughter. 

“Yeah, you do,” Johnny said, grinning awkwardly around his fake teeth. “You know, I’m not usually that crazy about this kinda stuff, but I’d totally let you bite me.” 

“Would you?” T.J. teasingly bared his fangs, his head inclined only the tiniest bit as he watched Johnny nod. Then he leaned back again and let go of Johnny’s waist. “I’m sorry, but I don’t usually eat stray dogs.” 

“Wow, you’re taking your character really seriously, aren’t you?” Johnny asked, an exaggeratedly disappointed look on his features that made him look more like a puppy than a werewolf, and this time T.J. had to laugh for real, shaking his head softly as he leaned back in again and brushed a soft kiss to Johnny’s cheek. 

“Come on, let’s get you some jello or… some of that stew maybe? That should be easy enough to eat.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not eating that,” Johnny replied stubbornly. “Kyle introduced it as dog intestines. And it kinda looks it, too.”   

T.J. had to grin at that and roll his eyes. “Being a werewolf has made you quite sensitive.” 

“Oh shut up, I’ll eat it,” Johnny replied, a crooked grin around his lips betraying his pretend aversion. 

They had to queue for a moment before Johnny could fill himself a large bowl of stew and T.J. picked up some canapes and another glass of ‘blood punch’ - cranberry and pomegranate juice with vodka and some other special ingredients Karen had not been willing to disclose. T.J. was betting it was grenadine and lime juice with a dash of ginger, but he was not going to spoil her fun by saying so. 

After most of the guests had eaten their first or second helping, the music was turned down a notch and Jared hit a spoon against his own punch glass to get everybody’s attention. Nicky, right at his side, looked gorgeous and badass in a steampunk styled costume as vampire and monster hunter. A high slit in her ruffled skirts revealed a wooden stake in her garter, a silver prop gun was in a holster around her hips, and she wore a big silver cross on a velvet choker. 

“We’ll let you get back to eating and dancing in a minute, but we just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for coming,” Nicky started, which gained her a round of approval from her guests. 

“And thanks especially to everyone who brought some snacks and drinks. We don’t want to seem miserly, but you all know how expensive living in New York City can be. So thanks for that,” Jared said. 

T.J. and Johnny had brought a casket of wine and a few bottles of vodka for the lack of food ideas (or talent to prepare anything as imaginative as many others had). 

“It’s a bit of shame that Halloween falls on a monday this year,” Nicky continued. “Many of you have to work tomorrow, but we hope you’ll have a good time here with us for a few hours.”

A few guests cheered and applauded, but Nicky opened her mouth to speak again, waiting for them to quiet down. “Especially since we have our exclusive 90s boyband here who’ll surely entertain you with--”

“Oh no, no. I’m not doing that dance”, Jared immediately interjected. “Absolutely not!” 

“Here, have more punch, Jared,” Karen quipped in, and Jared rolled his eyes. 

“I couldn’t even get  _ that _ drunk.” 

“Aww buddy, don’t be such a party pooper,” Kyle was saying now, having approached the two while Johnny was hiding behind T.J. and whispering that they should go lock themselves in the guest bedroom and wait until it all blew over. 

Jared glared at his friend. “No,” he said curtly, taking just one quick breath before he continued, very quickly, “Anyway, we’ve got regular punch, which you’ve already been drinking, and virgin blood punch, which, unlike the Halloween theme may suggest, is not made of the blood of virgins. So have fun, dig in, and if you need anything, come to us. Cheers!” 

There were a few shouts along the same sentiment as Kyle’s, but mostly the guests seemed pleased with the warm welcome and raised their glasses to toast to their hosts. The music set back in and the crowd scattered again, some swaying to the song and others scavenging the buffet. 

T.J. turned around towards Johnny and laid his hands around his waist again. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so against the idea of doing that dance. You’re such a party animal, normally.” 

Johnny rolled his eyes at him and gave him a small shrug. “Well, yeah. And even though I’m an awesome dancer, it’s the  _ Backstreet Boys _ ! That’s just embarrassing. And I don’t even know that dance. So, no. Not while I’m still sober.”

It was a thinly veiled challenge, and T.J. raised his brows at his boyfriend before he let his gaze travel back to the table with foods and drinks. “Let’s get you some more punch then.” 

“Wow, now you’re trying to make me drunk to take advantage of my poor life choices. You’re really evil.” 

T.J. let out a snort of laughter and shook his head, still smiling when Johnny allowed him to be led towards the buffet to refill their glasses. There were two women there whom T.J. had not met before but knew were a couple; Nicky had introduced them as Lily and Anna earlier. Lily was dressed in a rather plain victorian style outfit while Anna had a much more elaborate costume: a fancy, high-collar victorian style dress and her face all green, hair and much of her forehead hidden under a silicone mask with scales and bumps that made her look like a reptile. 

“So who are you two supposed to be?” Johnny asked, putting T.J.’s thoughts into words. 

“I’m a lizard woman from the dawn of time, and this is my wife,” Anna replied, which didn’t really answer much. 

“We’re characters from Doctor Who,” Lily explained after T.J. and Johnny had looked at each other quizzically. “I assume you don’t watch it then?” 

“No, sorry,” T.J. replied, “though I’ve heard of it. Your costume is amazing, by the way. I don’t even want to know how long it took to put on the mask and makeup.”

“What mask?” Anne, aka the lizard woman from the dawn of time asked, “this is my face.” 

Her girlfriend - or wife - chuckled and hooked her arm with Anna’s. “She’s taking her character very seriously.” 

“I wish T.J. was the same. He even outright refused to bite my neck. What kind of Count Dracula is that?” 

“Hey, I refused on the grounds that I don’t bite filthy dogs. Only tasty humans. Sorry darling,” T.J. said before he took a sip of his punch, licking the blood-red liquid off his lips while holding Johnny’s gaze. 

And as predicted, it took a second in which Johnny looked slightly flustered before he regained his cocky cool. “Try that again with a… Transylvanian accent and I might believe you.” 

“That’d be Romanian accent. Transylvania is just a region of Romania, located west of the Carpathian mountains.” 

“Wow, nerd,” Johnny replied with mock distaste in his tone. “You  _ should _ watch Doctor Who.” 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Lily asked, her features quite stern but amusement making her lips quirk. 

“Oh, sorry! My bad, ladies. I didn’t mean to... “ 

“He only meant to insult me, and that’s fine. I’m used to it,” T.J. explained, enjoying seeing Johnny sweat there for a moment. 

“Well, okay, it is a nerdy show, I’ll give you that,” Anne, no more in character, conceded. “But it’s awesome and we love it, and if it weren’t for that show we’d have never met.” Despite all the makeup and the prosthetic elements on her face, the loving look she gave Lily then was still easy to spot, and T.J. wondered if that was what other people saw when they observed him and Johnny sometimes. 

“Comic Con,” Lily added in explanation. “Three years ago.” 

“Ah, so you’re that friend who’s helped Nicky with all her Halloween costumes the past few years then?” Johnny asked, and Anne nodded. 

“How come I’ve never seen you before?” 

“Because I live in Chicago. Nicky and I went to school together, but we always stayed in touch.” 

“Aww, that’s nice,” Johnny replied, and T.J. wondered whether there was a sense of regret in Johnny’s words that he, himself, had no friends left from his high school times. Only those from his mid to late twenties. So far, he’d never had the impression that Johnny really missed the people from his schooldays. 

“Are you guys talking about me?” T.J. recognised Nicky’s voice as he turned towards her and made room for her to get to the punch. 

“Yes we are. But only the good things,” Anne replied as Nicky refilled her glass - from the virgin blood punch bowl. 

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else,” Nicky said and laid an arm around Anne’s shoulders. 

“Already had enough?” Johnny asked teasingly, nodding towards Nicky’s glass. 

There was an odd look on Nicky’s face then, something between amusement and bashfulness, and something else that T.J. couldn’t quite place at first. “I haven’t had any of it.” 

“Huh? How come? The regular punch isn’t even that strong.” Johnny asked, obviously confused, but something seemed to click into place in T.J.’s head. 

“Oh my God,” he laughed out softly while Anne’s eyes widened and she looked at her friend, mouth open. 

“Nicky!! Seriously?”

“Seriously what?” Johnny asked, still not putting two and two together, and it made T.J. laugh even more. 

“I didn’t want to make a big fuss of it because it’s only nine weeks, and you know what they say. First trimester and all. But yeah. I’m pregnant.” 

There was a squeal from Anne loud enough to draw attention from a few others around; a woman whose name T.J. didn’t know, dressed as the girl from the Exorcist, stuck her head into their circle, and Kyle squeezed through between T.J. and Johnny. Everyone hugged her and congratulated when she repeated the news, and T.J. didn’t think the smile would fade from his face anytime soon. 

It didn’t take long before the news had spread to most of the guests, and the music had to be stopped once more for Jared and Nicky to give another small speech so they wouldn’t have to repeat it to every single one who came asking. 

“Oh, I’ve-- Let me through,” Kyle said hastily, grinning as he pushed his way over to the laptop and shoved Adil from his seat where he had played DJ for the past half hour or so, and just a moment later the intro of ‘ _ Sweet Child of Mine _ ’ by Guns ‘n’ Roses resounded through the room. 

Johnny’s approval took the shape of a nearly wolf-like howl, and T.J. had to laugh again. 

“It’s not a song about a child as in baby,” Kyle said to them a moment later when he returned. “I realise that now. I’ve made a mistake.”

“Who cares?” Johnny replied. “It’s a fucking awesome song!” 

T.J. couldn’t help but agree. 

 

The evening wore on like that, with good (and sometimes awful but fun) music from the 90s and great company and conversations. But as it was getting later, the guests started taking their leave until the crowd thinned out to no more than seven people, no later than half past ten. Anne and Lily were just about to leave. 

“Man, regular jobs suck, don’t they?” Johnny asked, his chin on T.J.’s shoulder as he looked over to the entrance door where Nicky and Jared thanked their guests for the visit and bade them goodbye. 

“Wouldn’t know. Never had one,” T.J. replied and reached behind him to grasp Johnny’s hand. 

“It’s not even eleven, and the party’s already over. It’s way too early to go home and to bed.” 

It could have sounded like a general statement, but something in the way Johnny had put it sounded like a prompt for T.J. to agree with him and suggest they could go somewhere else. T.J. had an inkling as to what this other place might be. 

“So what do you want to do?” he asked nevertheless. 

“Uh, I dunno. Go to a club or something?” 

T.J. rolled his eyes, glad Johnny couldn’t see him. Why couldn’t he simply ask him upfront?

“Who said club? I’m in!” Kyle said, his last glass of punch still in hand. He was mildly drunk by now but still good company. In fact, T.J. had never once seen Kyle become unpleasant when drunk, and the prospect of taking him along made the idea seem slightly more appealing. 

“I kinda have an idea,” Johnny said close to T.J.’s ear and only to him. “But I know you don’t like it there, so it’s up to you.” 

He could just suggest a different place. After all, they lived in New York City where there were tons of bars and clubs that would be open on a night like this. Sadly, the best places would probably also be packed and hard to get in if they didn’t want to queue for an hour at the entrance. 

“Fine,” he said eventually, rolling his eyes to himself and suppressing a sigh. “We’ll go to Mick’s club.” 

“Really?” Johnny asked, and T.J. was getting a little mad at him for playing surprised. He was convinced Johnny had planned the outcome of this conversation precisely as it had unfolded. 

“Yes. Really.”

“Awesome!” Johnny said and came around to T.J.’s front, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.” 

And that appeased him a bit, even more so when Kyle also pressed a noisy smooch to T.J.’s cheek and said, ”I love you too! Let’s go!” 

“You’re such a dork, Kyle,” Johnny said, and T.J. had to laugh. 

“Even a bigger dork than you.”

“Yes Kyle, you’re being a bigger dork than me,” Johnny continued in a mock-serious tone. “And T.J. loves dorks, so tone it down a notch. And no more kissing my boyfriend.” 

“I… um. I’m sorry, dude. That was a platonic kiss. I’m not--”

“He’s messing with you,” T.J. interjected, patting Kyle’s shoulder and watching the look on his face go from alarmed to confused. 

Maybe they were going to have a good time after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who follow our askblog [asktjandjohnny](http://asktjandjohnny.tumblr.com/) and the one of you in particular who sent the question about when there'd be a wedding, now that T.J. and Johnny have been together for two years. The thing is, the timelines are completely fucked up. The first story was supposed to be set in the first or second year of Elaine's administration as president. So that should have been 2013/2014, starting in May and ending sometime in early autumn. That is if the administration periods don't differ in that fictional world which it kinda seemed it did (we did a lot of reseach and read timelines made by other fans and still couldn't figure it out).   
> That means, this fic here would be set in either 2015 or 2016. Going by the recent events (Brexit) mentioned it should be 2016. Which means there should be an election, if... see above. So we decided to ignore the election. Trump is not running and neither is Hillary.   
> Now, as for the blog, we started it about a year ago which should have been right after T.J. and Johnny got together. If the timeline of it remains constant, then they've been together for ONE year now, not two. Yet, since it would have been really complicated to leave it in 2015 (and not being able to answer any of your questions regarding current events) we decided to simply ignore this discrepancy.   
> It's messy, I know, but anything else would have been as well.   
> But on the upside... on the blog, T.J. and Johnny are in a very good place right now, and their answers will be much more fun than they'd have been within the timeframe of this fic. 
> 
> Thanks a million for all your lovely asks over there! We really enjoyed them. Answers are coming soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since I'm home from my holiday early (everything's fine, it just wasn't what I'd been looking for), I'm going to post the new chapter earlier as well. Hope you enjoy it. And thanks again for all the comments and kudos! :)

It took only about twenty minutes for T.J. to regret his previous hopes. After having been let in through the VIP entrance, T.J. found familiar faces he could have done without seeing: Patrick and Alina, as well as Alex and Nea. Mick, whom he tolerated most of the crowd - and that was saying something - was nowhere to be seen. Their costumes were a lot less geeky than most of Nicky and Jared’s guests’. Nea was wearing an expensive looking, deep-cut, blood-red dress with vampire-like makeup and hugely voluminous hair. Her brother was dressed in a torn business suit (that probably had been an expensive one before the Halloween makeover), with blood splatters all over his white shirt and face. Alina… well, Alina looked like nothing but a street corner prostitute and Patrick was obviously her pimp, gold chains around his neck and fake gold grill in his mouth, making hand gestures at them and speaking in a poor impersonation of a gangster rapper. The only thing that spoke for him was the fact that he had been sensible enough not to go for black face. 

It usually didn’t bother T.J. when Johnny recognised attractive women, but the look he caught on Johnny’s face when he took in the sight of Nea’s exposed right leg and her deep cleavage nonetheless made him feel annoyed and uneasy. It was only remedied by the fact that he didn’t seem to find Alina’s tiny hotpants and overknee boots as appealing. Or T.J. thought he didn’t until Alina turned around and walked towards the bar, exposing her admittedly extremely well-formed backside. 

The similarly impressed look on Kyle’s face - mouth hanging open and eyes wide between the mummy bandages - at least made T.J. chuckle. 

“Come on, let’s get some drinks.” 

“Get me a beer, okay?” Johnny asked, right before his attention was drawn back to Patrick who’d started talking about some other great party they’d attended. 

T.J. didn’t hear the rest of it. He made his way towards the bar with Kyle, navigating the throngs of people that couldn’t be more different from the guests at Nicky and Jared’s party, and while T.J. had spent many nights among similar patrons in his own club or the ones he had ventured in before, none of them interested him anymore. He knew the type all too well: rich and spoiled, indulging in too much alcohol and other poisons, talking about fashion and holidays and their latest acquisitions but missing substance, no personal, quirky stories to make them interesting and likeable. Just the same, dull shells with slightly different faces. 

“Dude, I kinda feel a bit out of place here,” Kyle said as they waited at the bar to be served. While his costume looked fun, it certainly lacked the glamour and ‘bling’ most of the others around them showed off. 

“Nah, you’re just fine,” T.J. said and clapped Kyle’s back, earning a crooked smirk from him. 

“Are Johnny’s friends like filthy rich or something?” he asked as he let his gaze travel towards the VIP seats, the bottles of champagne in coolers and the many model-type women that surrounded significantly smaller numbers of men. 

“Yeah, something like that,” T.J. replied and drowned his shot of vodka before taking the longdrink into one hand and Johnny’s beer in the other. He was tempted to share with Kyle how much he couldn’t stand them, but Kyle was Johnny’s friend first and foremost, and it wouldn’t be fair to try and set him up against him in some way. 

“That Nea chick is hot, but way out of my league,” Kyle said, shoulders slumped and sighing in defeat. 

“No offense to you, but she is. But that’s no loss if you ask me,” T.J. said, mentally biting his tongue. 

Lucky for him, Kyle didn’t ask him to elaborate, contentedly nursing his fruity cocktail and fighting the little umbrella getting stuck in his bandages. 

“Let’s get back to Johnny before he dies of thirst,” T.J. said, though that definitely wasn’t the reason he wanted to get back to him. When they did, he could see two new arrivals in the group: Mick and a… Playboy Bunny who had her arms slung around Johnny’s shoulders and hugged him tight for a lot longer than most people considered purely friendly. But Johnny broke the embrace and held her at the shoulders, wide smile on his face that clearly told those two must know each other from before. When Johnny spotted T.J. he didn’t let go of her immediately and patted her upper arm softly before he waved at T.J. to come on closer. 

“Trish, that’s T.J., my boyfriend,” Johnny introduced him as he reached the group and could take a closer look. She was pretty, really pretty. Long, dark brown hair and light grey eyes, full lips and a perfect button nose, which made T.J. think that she was, in fact, the perfect embodiment of a Bunny. 

“T.J., this is Patricia, an old friend of mine,” Johnny continued before he took the beer bottle from T.J.’s hands. “Thanks.” 

T.J. and Trish shook hands and she looked him up and down, a wide, rather sweet smile on her face before she looked back to Johnny. “I don’t even know who I’m more jealous of,” she said, slapping him lightly against the chest. 

Johnny laughed out and slung his arm around T.J.’s shoulders. “Wow, Trish. I didn’t even know you were in town. It’s been ages.” 

She batted her eyelashes and looked up at him. “Well. I got here the day before yesterday, but I wanted it to be a surprise, and Mick was sure you’d show up here, so… Here I am.” 

“It’s really a great surprise,” Johnny said enthusiastically, completely missing what she might have just revealed. Once again, T.J. was biting his tongue, but if Mick had been sure Johnny would show up, then it might mean he really had planned ending up here tonight all along. 

“So what are you doing these days? Do you still live in Miami?” 

“Yeah, I do. And I work as hostess at a tuning company. You should see the cars I get to present, Johnny, you’d love them.” 

“I’m sure I would. Tell me more.” 

T.J. had to fight hard not to roll his eyes. He knew Johnny loved cars, but he simply couldn’t share that enthusiasm. It’s not that bothered him, but with these people around it was all topics he didn’t care for, inevitably reducing him to a passive observer rather than active participant of a conversation. 

Johnny, Trish and Mick were deep in one about the recent sports cars now while Alex and Patrick talked business.

“So what do you do, Nea?” Kyle asked, making T.J. grateful for his presence once more. 

“I run a multi-million dollar corporation. You?” 

“I run a… multi-thousand dollar electronics store. Well, kinda. I’m assistant runner. Manager,” Kyle stammered slightly. 

“Oh. Retail. How… interesting.” 

“Yeah, it is! You get to meet lots of different people and help them find the right thing. It’s really fun,” Kyle replied, obviously having missed her mild contempt. 

“I bet it is. Now excuse me, a really good-looking guy is making eye-contact over there. See you later.” 

Kyle deflated a bit but then he shrugged, giving T.J. a ‘I knew it’ look and took another sip of his cocktail. T.J. had already finished his own drink and was longing for more. 

Maybe there was still a chance to make this evening enjoyable. “Johnny?” he asked, trying to get his boyfriend’s attention. Johnny, who’d been laughing at something Trish had just said, turned around and raised his brows in question. 

“Do you want to dance or… sit down somewhere?” 

“Oh, we have a table over there,” Trish said, pointing at one of the VIP booths. “You can come join us.” 

That was exactly what T.J. had been trying to avoid, and he hoped Johnny would realise this and pay attention to his original two companions. But that was probably a futile hope, considering he had unexpectedly just met yet another  _ old friend _ . 

“Um…” Johnny looked back between T.J. and Trish twice. Then a smile appeared on his lips and he took a step closer towards T.J. and Kyle. “How about we go dancing now and then sit down with them?” he asked, both hands on T.J.’s hips and head inclined to give him one of his most adorable and irresistable ‘pretty please’ looks that made T.J. hate that he hated the idea so much. 

“Okay. Sounds good,” he lied, but it was a compromise. 

The music wasn’t as fun as it had been back at the party, but it was danceable, and T.J. actually started enjoying himself when Johnny’s attention was focused on him. And a little bit on Kyle, who awkwardly avoided being the third wheel. 

After including him for a bit, Johnny leaned closer to T.J. again, arms around his shoulders, hips close as they moved to the music. “I had no idea Trish was here, sorry,” he said, and T.J. gave him a small shrug. “I hope it’s okay if we spend some time with the others.” 

“It’s fine,” T.J. replied and met Johnny in the middle for a brief kiss. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand Johnny’s wish to spend time with some old friends, but the main problem was that he really couldn’t stand any of them, no matter how hard he tried - at least those he already knew, and he wondered what Johnny even saw in those people and what, in return, that meant for him. 

But Johnny was being sweet again, manipulative as he may be, too, and T.J. wanted to try to be tolerant enough of them to make it through the evening. 

After about three more songs, Johnny headed to the VIP corner and T.J. decided to get himself another drink with Kyle. 

They should probably have stayed at the bar for a while longer because, when they joined the others, Patrick was ridiculing some of the other patrons’ costumes and laughing in his loud and obnoxious manner. 

“You know what I can’t stand seeing anymore of this Halloween?” he asked, not taking note of T.J. and Kyle turning up. “Female Ghostbusters. They’re so unsexy. Whatever happened to those sexy, feminine versions of the uniform? This movie really ruined everything, and it wasn’t even funny.” 

“I liked it,” Kyle said, expressing T.J.’s own sentiment. “Kate McKinnon was pretty hot, too.”

Patrick frowned exaggeratedly. “Kate McKinnon is a lesbo.” 

“And that, of course, automatically means she can’t be attractive,” T.J. couldn’t stop himself from saying. “We liked the movie too, by the way. Didn’t we?” He gave Johnny a small nudge in the side. 

“Huh?” he looked up from Trish’s phone where they had been browsing pictures or something, talking quietly between themselves. “What did we?”

“I said we liked the new Ghostbusters.” 

“Oh. Yeah. It was alright.” 

“No it wasn’t,” Patrick refuted him without giving any good reason. “But whatever, I’m not here to discuss movies. My point was women don’t really dress like women anymore these days. They’re afraid to show off what they have which is due to all this prudish crap we have in our society. I mean, we’re basically on a reactionary course back into the fifties. You can’t even swear on TV anymore.” 

If there was one thing T.J. hated more than people being outright offensive it was them trying to justify it with pseudo-intellectual nonsense like that which had just come out of Patrick’s mouth. He really hadn’t had enough alcohol for this. Luckily, there was another of those magnum bottles of champagne on the table and some yet unused glasses that he intended to use right after emptying his margarita. 

“It’s because of all that modern feminist crap. I mean everyone calls themselves a feminist these days. It’s getting ridiculous,” Alexis said. 

“Yeah, precisely. And they’re not even fighting any real issues. It’s just about what words people use and about, god forbid, men expressing their thoughts and opinions.” 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe what I’m just hearing,” T.J. laughed out in disbelief. “Are you two even for real?” 

“What, man? It’s the truth,” Patrick replied defensively. 

Johnny, who was still somewhat distracted by Trish’s phone, seemed to have caught the last bits of the conversation, finally gave his two cents too, and for a second T.J. was worried that what Johnny was about to say may not be what he’d like to hear. 

“You know, T.J.’s mom, who’s the president of this beautiful nation, is pretty big on the whole feminist thing. And so is my sister. And I don’t really get the impression from them that I can’t voice my opinions just because I’m a dude.” 

“Yeah, alright, but that’s not the point,” Patrick went on and from there into a rant about how women constantly complained about being objectified while doing the same with men. Alina even agreed with him, making doe’s eyes at everything he said, and T.J. pitied her for it. He even regretted the fact that Nea wasn’t with them at the moment because, as arrogant and superficial as she seemed, she surely would have had none of this crap. Or so he liked to think. 

“So what are you looking at?” he asked Johnny instead, trying to ignore the sexist bullshit Patrick and Alex were still on about. 

“Just some pictures from years ago. I still have them on my phone,” Trish replied, sliding through the images to one of Johnny in his race suit, victorious pose with a golden cup in hands after he had won a race. “Look at how handsome he was,” she said, and T.J. could only agree, feeling a hint of amusement breach through all his annoyance at Johnny’s indignant “ _ Was _ ??” 

“Still are, baby,” he said placatingly and brushed a small kiss against Johnny’s cheek. 

While Johnny seemed to have a good time walking down memory lane, T.J. really had to fight hard not to listen to and comment on anything the other guys were talking about. Right now, they went on about the refugee crisis. Mick was actually agreeing with the Brits who had decided to leave the EU for it, though at least acknowledging that the economic consequences would be abysmal. Luckily, there was still champagne left, and the more T.J. drank, the easier it was to just mentally roll his eyes at the idiots and otherwise ignore them. 

“Don’t you think you should have some water in between?” Johnny asked, his voice gentle but the words annoying T.J. nonetheless. 

“What? Are you keeping track of what I’m drinking now?” 

“No. I’m… I mean, well, it’s hard to miss. Careful with that, okay?” He smiled benignly but it didn’t take away from the fact that he did sound somewhat patronising. 

“It’s just champagne, Johnny. I know how much I can take,” T.J. replied and, in spite of his boyfriend, drowned his entire glass of champagne before refilling it. 

“Okay,” Johnny said and sighed softly. “Just that… nevermind.”

He knew what Johnny was thinking, and he hated it, hated the feeling of ‘once an addict, always an addict’ that arose every time someone questioned his drinking habits or reminded him to be careful. And maybe he was having a drink or two too many right now, but he definitely wasn’t the only one doing so. Alina could barely sit straight anymore, Patrick was getting more and more aggressive and Kyle had had quite a few drinks himself even before they got here. Kyle, who was… not here anymore. 

“Did you see where Kyle went?” he asked Johnny but got only a shake of his head in reply. 

“Toilet maybe?” 

“Yeah, could be,” T.J. replied and just realised that he hadn’t paid attention to Kyle for quite some time now. He didn’t even know how long he had been gone for. “I’ll go look for him.”

There was another wave of annoyance when Johnny only agreed but didn’t offer to come with him. Kyle was an adult, only a few years younger than Johnny and T.J., but he was a bit of an oddball and clutz, and even while T.J. didn’t think something bad could have happened to him, he would have liked to see a little more concern from Johnny for one of his closest friends. 

Instead of contemplating this any further, or anything else that had made him angry or uncomfortable, he focused on trying to find Kyle in the crowd. His first stop was the bar, and he almost thought he had found him when he saw someone dressed up as a mummy, but on closer inspection he realised it wasn’t him. He tried the dance floor again and the front lounge of the club and, not having found him there either, the toilets. There were two different toilets, one on the side of the main dance floor, and one in the VIP section where T.J. went last. When he opened the door of the men’s room, he nearly did a double-take and stopped dead in his tracks, the door handle still in his hand. There, bent over the washstand, was Patrick, snorting a line of what unmistakably was cocaine. 

“Shut the door, will you?” he asked, pulling up his nose, and, for the lack of a better idea, T.J. did as he was told. 

“Thanks. Want some too?” 

T.J. just stared at him for what must have been several seconds before he finally regained his speech. “No, thanks. I’m just looking for my friend Kyle.”

“Oh right. I forgot you used to have issues with this. Too bad,” Patrick shrugged, unrolling his bill and putting it back into his wallet. 

T.J. felt ice-cold anger pulse through him, yet he was still nearly paralysed, unable to take his eyes off the white residue on the polished surface. As his anger faded, his heartbeat picked up, almost as if his body remembered the effect of the drug, tried to recreate it to make T.J. yearn for more. More of that feeling he had once loved so much, of being unbreakable, elated, his mind relaxed but his body full of energy. 

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Patrick asked, a sardonic smirk around his lips as he looked at T.J. challengingly. 

“No,” T.J. managed to say despite the temptation. Whatever other comment was on the tip of his tongue, it never came out, a knot in his throat preventing him to speak any further.  

“Suit yourself then,” Patrick said and finished cleaning up. 

When T.J. closed the door behind him, he had to take a deep breath and lean against the hard surface for a moment. It had been a while since he’d last been tempted, and he hadn’t thought it would seem so inviting, so hard to resist despite all the effort it had taken him to put it behind him. 

He took another deep breath and forced himself to shake it off as he made his way back. Just when he rounded the corner, he nearly bumped into a familiar figure, all wrapped in bandages, and the next breath that left him was one in relief. “Kyle, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Yeah, sorry dude. I had to get some fresh air. Was this close to puking,” he said with slurred speech.

“Are you okay now?” T.J. asked, mildly concerned, but Kyle just chuckled. 

“Yeah. I got a coke at the bar and ate some pretzels. I’m fine now. I guess I should go home, though.” 

“You can split a cab with us,” T.J. said as they continued towards their table. 

“My place isn’t even on your route,” Kyle objected, but T.J. shook his head. 

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll take the detour and get you home.”

“Aww man, you’re like the big brother I’ve never had,” Kyle said and leaned his head on T.J.’s shoulder which would have made him chuckle if it weren’t for the emotional turmoil that he still couldn’t fully shake. 

“Wait. Don’t you  _ have _ an older brother?” 

“Yeah, but Nate’s a dick.” 

Okay, that did it at last, and a small snort of laughter rose in T.J.’s throat. 

When they reached the table, Nea was back with a handsome stranger who was talking animatedly with Alex and Johnny while Trish was listening, having slid very close to Johnny’s side. T.J. chose to ignore that fact and get to the point. 

“We’re going home.” 

“What? Already?” Johnny asked surprised. 

“Yeah, already. It’s nearly two.” T.J. should probably have explained himself a bit better, but he had no idea how to do so without telling Johnny what he had just witnessed in the toilet, and he really didn’t want to stay here long enough for Patrick to return. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded never seeing him again. 

“But… we’re sort of in the middle of a conversation,” Johnny said, waving his hand in direction of the group and all their still filled glasses. “Can it wait ten more minutes?”

“No, it can’t,” T.J. replied curtly and grabbed his cape. “I’m tired as fuck, and Kyle is drunk. So we’re going home right now. If you want to stay, stay.” 

Johnny looked defeated, and T.J. hated himself a little for it. “Just… give me a minute and I’ll meet you outside,” he said quickly as T.J. already headed in direction of the exit. Kyle really was too drunk to worry about anything and only gave the group a friendly wave goodbye. 

Johnny really did come out no more than two minutes later, and all three of them got into a taxi. Kyle was nearly asleep and drooling on T.J.’s shoulder, and Johnny was as quiet as T.J. himself, the mood between them somewhat tense on both sides. T.J. could imagine that Johnny was disappointed over the abrupt end of their night, and it made T.J. feel bad for it, but he was not going to apologise. T.J. was disappointed and angry himself, disappointed that Johnny didn’t get why he disliked these people and angry that he seemed to put them first a lot these days. If nothing else, Johnny should  _ see  _ that they really needed to get Kyle home safe and sound, and the fact that he hadn’t, after not even bothering to look for him, left a sour taste in T.J.’s mouth.

The tense mood remained between them even after they had dropped Kyle off and got back home themselves, and it was with minimal conversation once more that they got ready for bed, out of all that makeup and the costumes and finally under the covers.

When the lights were turned off, T.J. contemplated for a long time whether he should tell Johnny what had happened in that bathroom, why he had wanted nothing more than to get away from there, and what other reasons there were for him to be this angry. But Johnny didn’t say anything either, didn’t even ask. And so T.J. stayed silent too.

It took a long while for T.J. to not having to feign sleep.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the next chapter, as promised :) I do hope I can keep posting on Sundays in the near future. My beta-reader is in the middle of a move and starting a new job, so things will be a bit stressful for her. If it should happen that she needs a few days longer, I'm sure you all will understand. 
> 
> I just wanted to mention something about the timeline of this fic and the first one. In short, the timeline is completely fucked up. It doesn't really match any real life events, particularly the timeline it should have regarding the president's term. When we wrote FSASH, we tried to figure out what year Political Animals was set in and what year Elaine would run for president, but you keep finding different analyses by fans or dates mentioned on fansites/official sites. So we just kind of rolled with it as set in the year we wrote it, which was 2015. Now, this one here is set two years later, and therefore should be set in 2017, yet I made reference to some real life events such as the refugee crisis (which I guess will still continue in 2017) and the Brexit. But then, Elaines presidency would make no sense, so in reality, she probably got elected in 2012, the first story was set in 2013, and this one here is set in 2015.   
> And on the askblog, only one year has passed since we had to match it to current events. So there, it's 2016 and they've been together for one year. Confusing enough? ;)   
> Anyway, just completely IGNORE any timeline accuracy and please forgive me/us for not being able to find a sensible solution to this dilemma other than doing so as well.

The following day, Johnny acted like nothing happened, and T.J. wasn’t quite sure whether he was grateful for it or angry. In any mature, mutually respectful relationship they should be able to talk about their issues, confront and solve them rather than ignore them. But he still remembered what doing  _ that _ had led to the last time, and a part of him did not want to see a repetition of such a fight. 

He and Johnny had had quarrels before, but it had never been anything serious, and for the first time in two years, T.J. couldn’t shake this nagging little feeling in the back of his mind that bigger issues were going to test their relationship. He didn’t want to think about what it meant if they weren’t able to put them aside. 

And so, the days wore on with the issue buried and untouched until he almost forgot there had been one in the first place. Johnny was sweet as always, goofing around when he had the opportunity, considerate and wonderful when they made love. It was in those moments when, seemingly out of the blue, Johnny would look at him with hunger in his eyes, kiss him deeply and took his time to make T.J. crazy with arousal that he felt like everything was alright between them after all, like he was cherished and loved and that was all that truly mattered. 

They went to visit Sue one afternoon. Little Frankie had grown so much over the past few months and had long started walking already, still clumsily and only for short distances, but he was a right little ray of sunshine that hardly cried even when he fell down on his diaper-padded little butt. 

“Come here,” T.J. said and picked him up, sitting him on his knees and tickling his chest to make him giggle around the pacifier in his mouth.  

“Oh, by the way, I didn’t even tell you yet,” Johnny said as he set his coffee cup down onto the table. “Nicky is pregnant.” 

“Oh, really? That’s great news,” Sue replied. “How far along?” 

T.J. and Johnny exchanged looks for confirmation, and T.J. answered first. “She said nine weeks on Halloween, so ten now. Still pretty early.”

“Yeah that’s still early. Does she get a lot of morning sickness?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Johnny replied, reaching a hand over to his little nephew who grabbed it with his tiny fingers and squealed in delight. “She was fine that evening.” 

“Well, tell her if she needs anything, we still have tons of baby clothing left. I’ve been meaning to donate them, but I kinda haven’t gotten around to doing it,” Sue said, slumping down a little further into her seat as she took her own coffee cup in hands. 

“We’ll do that, thanks,” Johnny replied. Then he leaned in a little closer towards T.J. and Frankie and ruffled the little boy’s soft blond hair. “Hey Frankie, wanna come to your uncle Johnny?” 

The boy shook his head and leaned forward against T.J.’s chest, grinning around his pacifier. 

“Aww man! I’m deeply hurt,” Johnny joked. “But I get you. T.J.’s awesome. So you stay right there and… drool on his shirt instead of mine.” 

Of course, at only one year and two months, Frankie didn’t understand everything Johnny was saying, but he didn’t seem to mind, having found a big button on T.J.’s cardigan and inspecting it curiously. Next thing he knew, Frankie spat out his pacifier and tried to take the button into his mouth instead. 

“Oh hey now, that’s not made for that,” T.J. said and gently pulled him away, picking up the pacifier and offering it to Frankie instead. 

“You’re really good with him, you know that?” Sue said, a radiant, sincere smile on her lips and a look in her eyes that T.J. thought he knew how to interpret. 

“Yeah, but… I’m not sure I’d like to do this every day,” he said, looking back at Johnny whose smile told him immediately that he agreed. They had talked about this a long time ago, and it always had been clear that, at least for now and the foreseeable future, neither of them wanted kids. 

“Yeah, me neither,” Johnny confirmed. “I’ll just gladly keep being an uncle. And you know, since T.J. does seem to have the hang of this, if you ever need a babysitter let us know.”

“Yes, please do,” T.J. said, as he let Frankie back down onto the floor where he had made grabby hands at a toy lying there. “I’m sure you and Reed would like some time for yourselves every once in a while.”

“Oh yeah, we definitely could use that,” Sue replied, a small laugh coming over her lips while she watched her son lovingly. 

“Where’s Reed anyway?” Johnny asked before he slid off the couch and reached for a plush elephant to wriggle it around in front of his nephew. 

“Tinkering with something again, I suppose. He was meant to join us…” Sue checked her wristwatch, “eighteen minutes ago. Typical.” 

“We could take this up to the lab,” T.J. offered, but Sue immediately shook her head. 

“Oh no, Frankie’s not allowed in the lab until he’s old enough to understand that he can’t put everything in his mouth or pull things off a table. It’s too risky. But I’m gonna call him,” she announced, already reaching for her cell phone just when the door of the living room was opened and Reed stepped in. 

“Johnny, T.J., nice to see you. So sorry, but I’m working on a new project right now.” Reed came closer and T.J. got up from his seat for a brief hug hello before Johnny, busy on the floor playing with Frankie, was greeted with a pat on his shoulder. 

“No problem. What are you working on?” Johnny asked. 

“An earthquake early warning system. As you know, there are currently no means to predict when earthquakes might happen, only to measure small pre-earthquake tremors and give affected regions a one minute window. I’ve devised an algorithm that might be a bit more precise and am currently feeding it geological data that has been collected in New Zealand over the past three decades in order to test whether the algorithm could make early predictions. So far, it’s all still in its early stages, and--” 

“Yeah okay, Spock, earthquake warning system would have been enough,” Johnny interrupted him. “Sit down and have some coffee before we drink it all.”

“You do know I could always make some more,” Sue said with gentle reprimand in her tone. 

“Yeah alright. But go sit your ass down and talk about something other--”

“Johnny, please!” Reed exclaimed. “Not that kind of language in front of our son.” 

“Aww come on. He can’t even speak yet.”

“He can say a few words, and I don’t want one of his first ones to be a--- synonym for backside,” Reed replied sternly. 

“You know what’d be worse,” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips as he leaned a bit closer towards Frankie, letting a small toy car bump into the elephant and tumble over. “If one of his first words were synonym. You don’t want him to be a complete nerd, do you?” 

“See, that’s why we don’t have kids,” T.J. remarked, snorting softly before he took another sip of his coffee. 

“Say synonym, Frankie. Or… algorithm. Al-go-rithm. Make your daddy proud.” 

“You’re such an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Sue said, more amused than anything as she watched her brother. 

“Yeah he is,” Reed agreed, but he, too, did not seem angry with Johnny. “Wait, should he be learning a word like that?” 

“Probably not, but we can’t shield him from everything, honey. He’s going to learn those words sooner or later anyway.”

“So can I say… the synonym for backside around him or not?” Johnny asked, which made even T.J. roll his eyes. 

“No, absolutely not. That word’s tabu around him,” Sue said seriously. “No swearing at all.”

“Aww man, that’s fu--- fudging exhausting. Please don’t tell anyone I just said fudging.” 

T.J. leaned forward, his mouth close to Johnny’s ear as if he was speaking only to him, but loud enough for the others to hear. “I’m going to use this against you whenever I want to extort a favour from you.” 

“What? Like a sex-- Uahng! Jesus Christ. This is hard. How the f-- fudge do you do this? Keep yourself from letting those words slip out?” 

T.J. threw his head back and tried to control the loudness of the laughter that was bubbling from his chest. 

“I never used to swear a lot, so it comes easy to me,” Reed said evenly and Sue looked her brother straight in the eye, one brow slightly raised.

“Self-control, dear brother. That’s all it takes.”

“Well, I’ve got none of that, obviously. Do you still want us to watch him, though?” 

Sue’s features softened, and she rolled her eyes briefly. “Of course. If something slips out it slips out. But try to make an effort.” 

“Wait, have I missed something? Do we have any plans for something where Frankie might need being watched?” Reed asked. 

“Not yet, but Johnny and T.J. offered and we’re going to take them up on it. We could use a quiet night to ourselves sometime. We’re parents now, but we’re also still a couple, and I haven’t had you to myself for ages.” 

“Wait, you’re not saying you haven’t spent an evening without him for over a year, are you?” Johnny asked, mildly shocked. “Didn’t you have a baby sitter.”

“We did,” Sue replied, “but she’s out of the country for a student exchange now, and we can’t leave him with Alicia all the time. So no, not for a while.” 

“Seriously, let us know when and we’ll take him,” T.J. offered. “Whenever works, except for when I’m having a concert. I’ll email you my schedule later, okay?” 

“Thank you, T.J., that’s very sweet of you. And you’d take him over night?”

“Sure. How hard can it be to change a few poopy diapers? Can I say poopy? Poop?” 

“Yes, I think that’s fine,” Reed replied, smirking softly. 

“Oh, and the first weekend in December also won’t work. But we’re free all November.” 

T.J. furrowed his brow, leaning forward once more to catch Johnny’s gaze. “Why? What’s on the first weekend of December?”

“Oh, right. I haven’t told you yet, have I?” Johnny started. “I’m supposed to drive at a charity race in Miami. Trish is helping set things up and she asked me to enter. So mark that down on your calendar.” 

T.J. had been in such a spectacularly good mood the whole day up until this very moment, and the fact that Johnny hadn’t even mentioned this before, hadn’t bothered to ask if T.J. was available, only added insult to injury. 

“And you want me to come with you?” T.J. asked, carefully, trying to keep up a light-hearted appearance. 

“Of course I do. It’d be awesome. Plus we can get a bit of nice weather before the cold winter starts. Miami is great.” 

“Uh, okay. Good thing my concert with Ella is only the weekend after.” 

“I wish we could find someone to watch Frankie so we could come see your concert, T.J.,” Sue said regretfully, but then her face lit up somewhat and she made a waving motion with her hand. “We’ll make it work somehow. Alicia and Ben could watch him for a few hours. We’ll be there.”

That warmed T.J.’s heart with genuine gratitude, and he gave Sue a earnest smile. “Thank you. It’d be great if you could see it. Ella is really amazing.” 

“Wait,” Reed said, his face scrunched up in contemplation. “Trish, that sounds familiar. Wasn’t that the girl you used to date?” He must have realised his mistake when first Johnny’s eyes widened and then, as soon as he caught on, T.J.’s did too. Reed looked guilty, awkwardly clearing his throat and playing with the spoon in his coffee cup. 

T.J. tried to remain calm. “You didn’t tell me you two dated.” 

“Oh, well,” Johnny let out a soft chuckle, shrugging. “It’s been so many years ago. And it was nothing serious really. So I kinda… forgot.” 

That last bit, if nothing else, was a lie. T.J. could tell even if he had wanted to remain naively gullible in this. Had Johnny told him right away that he and Trish had a past as more than just friends, he might have been okay with it. After all, everybody had past lovers, and T.J. had never been the jealous type. But the fact that he had purposefully kept it from T.J. left a sour taste in his mouth. 

“Does anybody want more coffee?” Sue asked, obviously sensing the tense atmosphere between them and trying to divert everybody’s attention from the subject. 

“No, thanks,” T.J. replied while Reed accepted and let her pour some into his cup. 

They did manage to change the topic, all thanks to Frankie who bumped his head into a leg of the coffee table and started crying softly, crawling towards T.J. and letting himself be lifted back up onto his lap to be comforted. It was quickly forgotten, and the conversation revolved around Frankie’s latest achievements, some funny anecdotes and other child-related topics, and T.J. was distracted enough to push the latest setback to the back of his mind. 

 

On their way home, T.J. was quiet, and Johnny was babbling. T.J. could tell that he was nervous about the accidental revelation, making an effort to talk about mundane and amusing topics to distract him from it, but T.J. didn’t take the bait. 

“So I was thinking maybe sushi tonight? From the place near Grand Central that you like so much. They deliver, too,” Johnny was saying as they stepped out of the elevator and he unlocked their front door. “Or maybe Mexican? I could do with a greasy burrito. We could run an extra round around the reservoir tomorrow to work it off,” he ended with a chuckle, while T.J. hung his jacket onto the coat hook. 

“Or… anything else you’re up for. I don’t really mind. We still haven’t tried that new Indian place that just--”

“When were you going to tell me?” T.J. interrupted him, forcing himself to keep his voice even, as he stopped by the kitchen island and looked at Johnny, who let his shoulders drop and breathed out a half-sigh. 

“Okay. Look,” he started, lifting a hand, palm out. “I know what this looks like, but… when  _ was _ I supposed to tell you? ‘Hey T.J., this is Trish, oh and by the way, we used to casually date several years ago’?”

T.J. had to admit that would have been an awkward and weird way to introduce her to him that night, but he was not letting Johnny off the hook that easily. “How about some time later then?” 

“But when? At breakfast? ‘Good morning, babe. Want some bacon and eggs? Oh and by the way, Trish and I used to date’? I didn’t want to make a big fuss of it because… why should I even mention it? It would have seemed like there  _ was _ something to confess, which there isn’t. It’s been years ago! And it really wasn’t even that serious. We went for a few drinks sometimes and had some fun, and neither of us was really in for a proper relationship.” His voice had risen slightly, not aggressively but in a desperately defensive tone as he explained himself. Then his features softened and he took a step closer, laying a hand on T.J.’s lower arm. 

“Look. I’m with you now, and I love you, and that’s not going to change. And our dating history really is the least important part of our relationship. We’re just friends! It was really just… just nice seeing her again and exchanging old stories, looking at pictures from the races and of all the other people we met. I really didn’t think the rest of it mattered enough to mention it, but I’m sorry. Next time something like this comes up I’ll tell you right away, okay?” 

T.J. had no other choice than to forgive him. His shoulders relaxed, and he let his arms drop to his sides, rolling his eyes slightly but feeling a small smile spread on his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Johnny repeated, and his own smile was bright, relief clearly visible on his whole face. Then his brow furrowed slightly and he tilted his head. “Was she the reason you wanted to leave so suddenly on Halloween?” 

T.J.’s first instinct was to give him a generic reply, to repeat that he’d been tired and that Kyle’s state was really the reason why he left. But Johnny had been honest with him, and maybe he should be too. So he let out his breath and tried to find a way to say it.

“No. I just… I didn’t want to be around your friends anymore.” 

“Huh? Why?” Johnny asked in confusion, and that he really seemed to have no idea bothered T.J. so much that he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“Because they’re awful!” he blurted out. “They’re really horrible, arrogant, sexist and racist people, and I honestly don’t get what you see in them.” 

“Wait who?” Johnny asked. “Mick and Trish?”

“No, Trish was nice, Mick I can tolerate to an extent.” It was the kindest thing he could say about him, knowing that he was a dear, old friend to Johnny and seeing that Mick at least seemed to care about him, but it was a bit of a white lie. He took a slightly deeper breath before he continued, “But… Patrick and his stupid pseudo-intellectual nonsense on politics and social issues, and Alex too. All their bragging about their accomplishments and… everything that comes out of their mouths. Please tell me you see that too.” 

Johnny seemed to ponder this for a moment, brow still furrowed, lip pulled into a contemplative pout. Then he shrugged and his brows went up. “Yeah well, I don’t know. I mean everyone says stupid shit sometimes. I wouldn’t say that makes them horrible.” 

T.J. let out a groan and threw his hands up in defeat, the appeased mood from just now mostly gone. “They don’t even care about you. They don’t give a fuck about you as a person but only see you as fun addition to their little partying gang.”

“Now wait a moment, T.J., I mean…” Johnny let out a helpless chuckle. “I’m not saying I want them to be my new BFFs, but they’re kinda fun. They’ve got fun stories to tell and--”

“Fun? That’s your idea of fun then? Thrashing women and refugees and everyone less fortunate than them with their clubs and yachts and what not.” 

“Wait, who’s got a yacht?”

Now T.J. was really about to lose his temper. “Oh my God, Johnny. Are you even listening to yourself? I say they’re bigoted dickheads and you just hear ‘yacht’? 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m hearing,” Johnny replied, his tone now rising again in obvious annoyance. “Because I’m hearing it for the first time same as most of the other stuff because, in case you’ve missed it, I was catching up with Trish most of the time and not listening to them.” 

“But that wasn’t the first time you’ve met them. You’ve gotta--” T.J. let out an exasperated huff, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “You know what?” T.J. started, his own tone bitter but quiet, “let’s just forget this.”

“Oh, no, no. You’re not walking out of an argument again. You don’t get to accuse me of shit and then not let me talk it through.” 

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” T.J. replied, tired of this whole stupid conversation. He just wanted it to end, wanted to go back to not being angry and not having to explain something to Johnny that should be so obvious to him. 

“Well it kinda sounded like you did,” Johnny replied, still irritated but with a hint of hope in his tone. 

T.J. just really wished Johnny could understand him here, could share his views and see that people like Patrick and Alex, and yes, to Mick too, stood for everything T.J. disliked, everything that he had thought Johnny didn’t approve of either. Johnny who was sweet and kind and tolerant, and yes, sometimes could be a bit macho but never outright sexist, never homophobic or racist or elitist,at times, he just seemed unaware his comments were not as innocuous as he thought. Around his new friends, it almost seemed like Johnny was a whole different person than the Johnny T.J. had gotten to know and fallen in love with, and that thought scared him. He had no idea how to put all of this into words without kicking loose an avalanche. 

“So what are you saying then?” Johnny pressed on after the silence. “That you don’t want me to spend time with them anymore?” 

T.J. wished he could answer ‘yes’, because he didn’t. He’d prefer for Johnny to hang out with people like Nicky and Jared, or Kyle and Adil and whoever else was in that group of friends, but that wasn’t what he could say. “Just don’t drag me along anymore. I don’t want to be in the same room as any of them.” 

“I only  _ dragged _ you along because I didn’t want to exclude you,” Johnny said, his tone somewhere between hurt and reconciliatory. 

“Please, do exclude me,” T.J. replied. “If you’re meeting them I don’t want to be there.” 

“But…” Johnny started, pausing to release a soft breath and visibly pondering to find the right words. “What about my race? I really wanted you to be there.”

“Are Patrick and Alex going to be there?”

“No, just Mick and Trish, as far as I know,” Johnny replied. 

T.J. could have done even without that, but he understood how much this meant to Johnny, and so he nodded. “Make sure the other two aren’t there, especially not Patrick, and I’ll come with you.” 

“Okay,” Johnny nodded, but there was still a frown on his face. “Just… just out of curiosity. Why Patrick in particular?” 

For a good two or three seconds T.J. contemplated telling him what he’d seen in the bathroom, but what he could stand even less than any fighting was the look of pity that confession surely would have put on Johnny’s face, and the feeling that he thought it was only due to his weakness, due to his past addiction that he had such a strong aversion towards Patrick. And T.J. had to convince himself, mentally, that that really had just been the last straw in a line of many horrible things instead of the main reason. Which it was, but he somehow doubted Johnny would believe it. 

“I don’t know, he just seems to be worst of them,” he replied instead, watching Johnny’s frown disappear only slowly. 

“Okay. I’ll tell Trish not to invite him. Nor Alex and Nea.”

“Okay, thank you,” T.J. replied and finally went to pour himself a glass of water. There was still that afterthought that he had somehow denied Johnny the option to decide for himself, that he’d pushed him into giving in for T.J.’s sake rather than coming to an understanding, and he wished it could have gone differently. There was only the small hope to cling on to that, given time, Johnny would see it himself. 

“So… to get back to the earlier question, what do you want for dinner?” Johnny said, coming up behind T.J. and laying an arm around his waist. The smile was back on his features and his voice completely normal. And maybe things were okay between them after all. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next chapter. On time after all because Indigo, my beta-reader, is awesome like that. 
> 
> Btw, there's a guy named Bill that Johnny mentions at some point. Special thanks to my dad for providing the inspiration (the description is spot on, mwhaha, and the anecdote true).

 

It was Monday before Thanksgiving, and the days had grown a lot darker. Colder, too, T.J. noticed and rubbed his hands together before he put them back onto the keys, eyes focusing on the note sheet before him. He played the theme again, implementing the modifications he had made to the sheet music. And yet, same as every other attempt before, as soon as he reached the beginning of the chorus, something didn’t seem right and made him push all ten fingers down onto the keys, the dissonant sound they elicited matching his inner frustration. 

“Hey, that didn’t sound bad.” He hadn’t heard Johnny come in through the door, and, slightly startled, turned around to face him. 

“When did you get back?” 

“Just now, really,” Johnny replied before he opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of vitamin water. He was in his track suit, gym bag probably left by the door when he had entered. “What are you playing?” he asked as he came closer. 

T.J. ran his fingers over his forehead, pushing his hair back as his gaze found the notes again. “It’s a 90s piece. Ella wanted to sing it, so I’m transforming it to a more swing jazzy kind of tune.”

“It kinda sounded familiar,” Johnny said. He put one hand on T.J.’s shoulder, rubbing it gently, and instantly there was warmth spreading from his touch that T.J. would have loved to lean into. But he still had work to finish. 

He put his fingers back onto the piano, starting over from the part that he had completed, a new modification to the tricky bit in mind. It did sound better this time, but he still wasn’t fully satisfied as it bore too much resemblance to the original. He let out a soft sigh as he turned around towards his boyfriend once more. 

“Okay, I’m not the expert here, but it really sounds good,” Johnny said, an encouraging smile on his lips before he brought them to the bottle neck again and took another large gulp. 

Yes, he was no expert, and T.J. knew better, knew that it still needed a bit of work until it was perfect, but he appreciated the positivity, feeling a small smile spread on his lips after all. “The problem is the tempo. The original is a bit faster than a swing ballad would be. It’s a bit more… chopped off, you see. So I have to make it flow differently to fit the genre and do it imagining what Ella’s singing would sound like with it. It’s not so easy.” 

Johnny’s brows were furrowed as he tried to understand what T.J. was telling him, and he nodded slowly before giving T.J.’s shoulder another gentle pat. “I’m sure you’ll manage just fine. It really did sound great already. Just… I can’t place my finger on it. What’s the song called?” 

“It’s ‘You’ by Ten Sharp,” T.J. replied, seeing Johnny’s eyes grow wider with recognition immediately. “Ella heard it on the radio recently and thought it was a great idea. Which it was, it’s just a bit tricky.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be awesome,” Johnny repeated and leaned in to brush a soft kiss to T.J.’s lips. 

“How was it at the gym?” T.J. asked, deciding that he could do with a break. 

Getting the cue, Johnny went over to the sofa and let himself fall down, a wide grin on his lips already and shaking his head in obvious amusement while he waited for T.J. to join him. 

“Man, we nearly pissed ourselves laughing in the locker room earlier.”

“Yeah? What happened?” T.J. wanted to know, taking his seat next to Johnny, feet pushing between the couch cushions to chase away the coldness he felt despite the thick socks. 

“You remember Bill? The guy who’s kinda fussy and always complaining about other people smelling bad?” 

T.J. nodded. 

“Yeah, so today he’d just arrived when Jared, me and some of the others were changing back already, and he was sniffling and saying something reeked really bad. That it must have been one of the guys coming there unwashed, stinking like a dead fox,” he said, making air quotes around the last bit and biting down on his grin. “I started smelling it too, and then Andy went, ‘Dude, it’s coming from your locker’. And Bill was like, ‘No way! My stuff’s always clean and fresh out of the laundry and…’ Then he went quiet as he stuck his head in his locker, and the look on his face when he realised it came from his gym bag was just priceless.” Johnny started laughing, one hand coming to his forehead as he shook his head. 

“What was it?” T.J. wanted to know, still having no idea where this story would lead. 

Johnny looked at him, trying to keep a straight face but nearly failing as he delivered the punchline. “There was a dead mouse in his bag. His cat had put it there for lunch.” 

This time, they both burst out laughing, and T.J. leaned forward, burying his face against the throw pillows for a moment. “Oh wow, that’s… both adorable and disgusting.”

“I know, right? And Bill’s face. Man, seriously, we were crying with laughter. You should have been there.” 

There was definitely no reproach in the statement, just a hint of tender regret, and the guilt T.J. felt for it was mild as well. “I’ll try to make time for it. It’s just with the concert coming up and Thanksgiving and all…”

“Yeah I know,” Johnny said, immediately laying a hand on T.J.’s shin and rubbing it lightly. “But maybe Wednesday morning? I think Andy has a crush on the new yoga instructor. He said he wanted to try taking her class. It’ll be hilarious.” 

T.J. couldn’t help but agree, not able to imagine beefy Andy bending and stretching as was required in a yoga class. “Yeah okay. We’ll go. Deal.” 

“Awesome,” Johnny said, leaning forward for another small kiss. 

Despite the comfort of the touch, T.J. felt a shiver run down his back and his forearms, and he pulled the sleeves of his thin sweater back down. “It’s cold here, isn’t it? Is the heating not working properly?” 

Johnny looked around as if he could see rather than sense the room temperature, but then he shrugged, obviously not feeling it. Instead, he reached for both T.J.’s hands and took them in his, warm, dry and, despite all the heavy weight lifting he did, soft, and T.J. felt a sigh of contentment escape him. 

“Got cold feet too?” Johnny asked, looking down to where T.J. had pushed them between the cushions, and without waiting for a response, he took them in his hands, rubbing up and down over the socks and massaging the cold toes gently with hands that were a good bit warmer than those of any ordinary person. 

“Mmh, that feels great,” T.J. said, feeling himself relax to the touch. “Who needs a functioning radiator when they have you?” 

“Right. I’ve gotta be good for  _ some _ thing after all,” Johnny joked. 

“Oh, you’re good for a lot more than just that,” T.J. replied, and although the touches were nothing more than offering gentle comfort, he felt his mood shift slightly, relaxation and the feeling of being cared for opening the door to more. 

There was a tender smile on Johnny’s lips, and it seemed to express the same kind of mood as he let go of T.J.’s feet and reached a hand out to him. “Come here,” he said softly and pulled T.J. up against him, shifting until they were both lying on their sides, T.J. squeezed in between the back of the couch and Johnny’s warm body, one arm wrapped around him and running up and down his back, arm and side. Soon, T.J. felt so warm that he could forget the temperatures outside were nearing freezing point; in fact, when he closed his eyes, he might as well be lying on a recliner at a pool somewhere in the Caribbean. 

He could  have fallen asleep right there, but his body was humming with a different kind of energy, sending pleasant tingles down his back every time Johnny kissed his skin. At first, they were small, innocent kisses to his cheeks, his forehead and his lips, but after a while they turned longer, firmer, and T.J. felt the tip of Johnny’s tongue slide along his bottom lip. And although he still had a lot to work on, maybe the distraction and relaxation that sex would bring really was a good idea to regain his focus later on. 

It was a wonderful distraction, too. Johnny was gentle and obviously set on getting T.J. to relax, making him feel good instead of taking something for himself, and while T.J. loved the knowledge that he made Johnny impatient and passionate, those instances in which he was the opposite made him feel loved and cherished in a way he had only known how much he needed when he first experienced it with Johnny. 

Soon, T.J. was lying on his back, Johnny above him, a hand reaching down to push his sweater up and tease the skin above his jeans. He was still kissing his lips, smiling down at him every time he raised his head, letting his lips wander down T.J.’s neck as far as the light sweater would permit. 

“Still cold?” Johnny asked, the warmth of his upper body having left T.J.’s chest as he had slid further down, knees between T.J.’s feet, and yes, he missed that warmth a bit already, shrugging slightly in response. 

Johnny only pushed the fabric of his sweater up a bit further, letting one hand run underneath it, flat against T.J.’s stomach and chest where that pleasant warmth spread from the touch. His lips now continued the touches on his lower belly, though, and his other hand reached for the front of his jeans, cupping the bulge inside where T.J. felt himself grow harder against the touch. A soft sigh escaped him, and he bit his lower lip, warm tingles spreading from his belly further down with the pleasant anticipation of what Johnny clearly had in mind. 

Impatient now, T.J. lifted his hips and pushed up against Johnny’s touch, urging him to open his jeans. While Johnny sometimes enjoyed making T.J. squirm, teasing him until he hardly could wait any longer, he seemed to know exactly what T.J. needed now. It didn’t take long until his lips were finally brushing against his erection, fingertips wandering up his length once before he took him into his mouth, and T.J. let his head fall back onto the couch cushions with a breathy moan. 

Johnny was so good at this, so amazing. The way he hummed deliberately around him, how his tongue circled the tip while his hand didn’t remain idle at the base but added just the right amount of pressure and friction. Even when it was slow as now with Johnny finding a steady rhythm, it always managed to drive T.J. crazy in no time, a pleasant tension pooling in his lower body. After a while, he reached down and ran his fingers through Johnny’s short hair, gently urging him to go just a little faster, just a little bit more, and it took hardly a minute after that until he felt those tingles amplify and shoot through him, a low moan that was nearing a whimper pulled from his lips. 

He took a few deep breaths, unable to open his eyes again for several moments, feeling utterly relaxed and boneless with release. He only saw then how Johnny licked his lips, his thumb running along the bottom one as he propped himself up on one arm above T.J., the other hand drawing lazy patterns across his hip bone and belly. 

“Thanks,” T.J. said, feeling a tired smile on his lips, his eyelids still heavy, and he realised then that fatigue spread through his body, and it was more difficult to fight it off than he’d anticipated. 

“Wow, you’re gonna fall asleep on me now?” Johnny asked, but again there was no reproach in his tone, just a teasing smile around his lips that was both amused and understanding. 

“Uh, sorry. No. Just give me a minute,” T.J. replied, wanting to move his limbs to sit up but not yet finding the energy for it. He really had slept ridiculously little the past few nights. 

Johnny was still smiling, and he pushed himself up above T.J. to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Or, you know, you could take a nap now while I have a look at the heating. And you can make up for it later.” 

That did sound great, and the way Johnny accompanied his words with a playful slap to T.J.’s thigh made any guilt vanish. 

“If you’re okay with that,” he replied, finding just enough strength in him to lift one arm and caress the back of Johnny’s neck before he gently pulled him down for a small kiss. “Thank you.” 

“Welcome,” Johnny said as he tugged him back in. Then he got up and took the blanket from the armchair to cover T.J. with it. “I hope you’re not getting sick, though. You’re not, are you?” 

That thought hadn’t even occurred to T.J., and it briefly made his eyes widen with alarm. But then he shook his head, knowing he really owed it to the bad weather and lack of sleep that he was feeling so tired and cold. 

“Well good,” Johnny said, smiling before he brought his lips to T.J.’s once more. “Sleep well then. I’ll wake you up before it gets too late.”

T.J. could only nod, already feeling his eyes fall shut, and the last thing he remembered was hearing Johnny’s steps slowly fade away. 

When he woke up again, he thought for the first few moments that it was night already, but when his eyes adjusted and he turned to look towards the windows, he noticed that it had just turned incredibly glum and grey outside. Johnny hadn’t switched on any lights yet, but he was sitting in the armchair, playing something on his tablet before he noticed the movements of T.J. stretching next to him. 

“Sleep well then?” he asked, and T.J. could only reply with a mumbled sound, still feeling drowsy with sleep. 

“I was gonna wake you soon. Your phone rang a couple of times. I think it was Ella,” he said, nodding towards the phone lying on the coffee table. 

T.J. took another few moments to blink away the tiredness and sit up before he took the phone in his hands. Two missed calls and one text message. 

When he opened it, his heart nearly missed a beat. 

_ Hey T.J., I can’t come this weekend. Something at school came up and I absolutely can’t make it. Please call me asap. Love, Ella. _

He knew what that meant immediately. That the only weekend after that and before the concert was the one of Johnny’s race. 

“Something the matter?” Johnny asked, but T.J. had no idea how to reply. 

 

~*~

 

“So… you’re saying you can’t come to my race?”

T.J. couldn’t miss the immense disappointment in Johnny’s voice, but there was also a hint of hope in the way he looked at him, blue eyes a little wider and brows scrunched up. 

It made T.J. hate this even more than he already did. 

He had spent the past thirty minutes on the phone with Ella, going over all the options, all dates between today and the concert that took place in a little more than two weeks. Unfortunately for both of them, they had not found any solution to their dilemma. 

“No, I’m sorry. There’s just no time. Like I said, this weekend she needs to fill in for her colleague who got sick. Nobody could have anticipated that.”

“But… can’t somebody else fill in?” Johnny asked, frustration becoming visible on his features now. “I mean she’s got a private life too. They can’t just make her work on the weekends, can they?” 

Sadly, they could. Ella’s school was hosting a music workshop on the weekend after Thanksgiving, and the only other teacher with the same qualifications as her had fallen ill with a severe case of the flu. Ella had been livid about this, but there was no helping it. 

“Like I said, there’s nobody else who can do it.” 

“Yeah, but that’s not fair. They’ve got to understand she’s got other obligations,” Johnny objected, voice raised slightly. So far, T.J. was glad that he seemed only angry at the situation and Ella’s school, not at T.J. 

“I know, it isn’t, and she’s really anything but pleased, but there are kids who depend on her, so there really isn’t any other option,” T.J. explained and was relieved to see Johnny nod. 

“Alright, then another date? It’s still two weeks until your concert. How long do you need to rehearse?” 

T.J. let out a soft sigh, rubbing his forehead. “We’d need at least two full days. So during the week won’t work.”

“Can’t she take a day off?” Johnny asked, and this time, T.J. felt himself become somewhat exasperated. 

“No, she can’t take a day off. She’s a teacher, Johnny. It’s not like any other job where you can take a vacation day whenever.” 

“Well then… she can call in sick or something. Problem solved!” Johnny was growing impatient, too, it was clear in the way his tone became slightly higher, louder, and he gestured more wildly with his hands. 

“Oh come on, Johnny, that’s not fair now,” T.J. groaned. “She’s new at that school. I’m sure you’re not suggesting that she’d lose her job just so I can go to your race.” 

Something changed in Johnny’s features then; they became harder as he nodded slowly. “Just so? Not very important to you, is it?” 

Any sympathy and guilt T.J. had felt up until now faded to the back of his mind and made room for a surge of anger that was sizzling in the pit of his stomach. He had to swallow and take a deep breath to contain it. “Look, I just spent half an hour on the phone with her and went over all the options. There really isn’t one unless you want me to cancel the concert. That really would be the  _ only _ way for me to come to your race.” 

Johnny seemed somewhat placated, but his features were still screwed up in thought, and T.J. knew he was not going to let it go so easily. 

“Okay, but what about… what about you only come Sunday to the race? You can rehearse on Saturday and then take an early flight down to Miami.” 

“I told you, we need two days. Which is kind of tight already but all we managed to get.” 

“Why the hell do you need to rehearse that much? You already did a concert together not long ago.” Johnny’s voice rose again, and there was clear despair in it, an urgent wish for T.J. to have that experience together with him, which he could relate to and felt bad about, but… 

For a second, a thought formed in his mind, unbidden and unwelcome, that he was, in a way, relieved that he wasn’t going to to be there, with days filled with activities he didn’t understand enough about or care for, and people he didn’t know. He ignored the thought, pushed it far away to the back of his mind because that was not the reason, nor an excuse for him not being able to be there. He could have come, had it been possible in any way, and the fact that Johnny didn’t understand this, didn’t trust him enough to believe it hurt like hell.

“We’ve got plenty of new songs. And Ella can’t sing ten hours a day, that’d ruin her voice. We need to take breaks,” he explained calmly after all, swallowing his anger and hurt. “I’m really, really sorry about this, but there’s just no way to make it work.”

“Are you really?” Johnny asked, voice low now and cold with disappointment. “It’s over two weeks, and you’re telling me you can’t find a few days to at least fly down to Baltimore and rehearse with her after school?” 

“Yes, Johnny, that’s what I’m telling you. In case you forgot, I’ve got another concert coming up next week and three press appointments, which means I’d have to fly down there and back again at least three times, getting even less sleep and time to wind down than now. So yeah, forgive me for not wanting to do that.” T.J.’s own voice had risen slightly as he was speaking, but he couldn’t stop it. 

“Oh great. You don’t want that. Funny how it’s all about what you want lately and what I want doesn’t seem to matter,” Johnny said with a sarcastic chuckle. And that really made T.J. explode with anger. 

“What the fuck? Where the fucking hell did that just come from?” 

“Oh don’t act like you don’t know,” Johnny shot back. “You don’t want to spend time with my friends, you don’t want to go out, you don’t want for certain people to be there at the race. And I’ve been stupid enough to meet you in the middle every-”

“Meet me in the middle?” T.J. really didn’t know what to say anymore. He was so furious by now, so disappointed in the way Johnny was twisting the facts in his favour that he hardly recognised him. 

It was another of those frightening, bitter moments in which T.J. couldn’t help thinking that he had not fully known Johnny until now and was only discovering the whole picture. And he certainly didn’t like it.  

“Yes, meet you in the middle. You didn’t want me to invite Patrick and Alex, so I didn’t. I told Mick not to invite them either, which was super awkward and embarrassing for me, because they’re his friends. But I did it for you so you could be there with me.”

“Okay. Guilt-trip me for not wanting those bigoted, bragging posers anywhere near me,” T.J. said bitterly and walked over to the sideboard where they kept their liquor. He needed a drink now more than ever. “I’m sure if I had friends you couldn’t stand I wouldn’t make you spend time with them.” 

“If you had friends.” The words seemed to have slipped out of Johnny’s mouth. For a brief moment Johnny’s eyes went wide and his mouth opened again, and in that moment, in which T.J.’s  mind had not yet fully caught on to the words, his anger not fully risen, he hoped for an instant apology. It didn’t come. Instead, Johnny’s eyes were drifting to the glass T.J. had filled with scotch, and he nodded towards it. 

“Is that your solution for everything these days?” 

For a split second, there was an impulse in T.J. to just take the glass and throw it, no matter where, wanting to hear the sound of it shattering, wanting to release his anger. Maybe it would have been the wiser decision, but he downed it in one gulp instead, feeling its warmth burn down his throat and waiting for the soothing effect to kick in. 

“What business is it of yours?” he asked as he poured himself another. 

There was a long pause, and T.J. almost thought Johnny would drop it, would storm off and leave him to it. But then he spoke up again. “I found the empty bottle, you know? When I went out for dinner with Alex and Nea. And I know it was more than half full before that.”

For a moment, there was a tiny sense of shame and shock in him at being discovered, but he didn’t allow it to surface, swallowing the drink and with it the doubts of whether, if about nothing else, Johnny was right in this. “Yeah? Welcome to dating an addict.” His resentment got the better of him in the end. 

Johnny had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and released a bitter chuckle. “Uh huh, and that’s my fault now. Speaking about guilt tripping.”

T.J. didn’t reply and took his third glass with him towards the couch, feeling there was no use in continuing this discussion. Johnny was clearly not interested in hearing his point or even trying to understand him, and T.J. was done hearing any more accusations. 

“Great!” Johnny called with mock enthusiasm. “Thanks for talking things through to the end and being a mature adult.” 

And that really was so rich of him, T.J. thought, always pretending  it was he who was the mature one in an argument. The sad thing was that he probably believed it. 

“Fine. Don’t answer then. Drink yourself into a stupor. I’m going out.” 

T.J. had always known Johnny as someone incredibly warm, someone caring and kind. His tone just now had been ice cold, and it sent a shiver down T.J.’s spine that even the alcohol could not chase away. It ran through his entire body, made something in his chest twitch and tremble, burn in his nose and eyes. When the door closed - a little more forcibly than would have been necessary - it burst out of him with a quiet, breathless sob. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday, and to Uncle Vernon's great dismay, there _is_ a post on Sunday ;) 
> 
> Some people asked whether this fic would have a happy end. I answered one of those questions [on my tumblr](http://leandraholmes.tumblr.com/post/153869393878/by-any-chance-would-you-be-able-to-tell-us-if-the). If you need to know, go read the post. Obviously it contains spoilers, but none other than saying whether it's a happy ending or not.

Johnny had always loved Thanksgiving. In a way, he had even enjoyed it more than Christmas, especially as a kid. While Christmas had, for many years, reminded him of the fact that his and Sue’s mother was no longer with them and his father away too, in prison, Thanksgiving as a more casual occasion had always been fun. His aunt had made the best Thanksgiving dinner he could have imagined, and instead of family she had had friends over who couldn’t make the often long journey to visit their families as they would do on Christmas. And so, throughout his early teenage and adolescent years, Thanksgiving had always been a holiday filled with laughter and good company, with great food and football on TV. 

Over the years, the way they celebrated the holiday had changed a bit, but the excited, light-hearted mood had never left him. Up until this year. 

The mood between him and T.J. had, expectedly, been tense, even cold, and once more it had been Johnny to make the first step towards reconciliation, though this time it had been a rather pragmatic more than an earnestly forgiving one. Johnny knew he had said many cruel things he should not have said, but he had been so mad, so disappointed and hurt. Lately, he’d been having a feeling that T.J. always expected him to accommodate to his needs while not really caring about Johnny’s nearly enough, and that feeling wore on him. 

In hindsight, he knew the instance of the race weekend was probably not the best example for that tendency; he understood that T.J. truly had no option this time. But it had been the proverbial last straw to break the camel’s back, and Johnny had not been able to contain his disappointment and outrage any longer. 

The state they were in right now seemed more like a ceasefire than an actual truce, and he wondered when and how they should get back to things being normal between them again. Every time he reached that thought he put it far to the back of his mind in fear of thinking they might not. 

When Thanksgiving day came, however, and they got to his sister’s early to help her with dinner preparations, and, after having a small drink in the kitchen and chatting about this and that, Johnny’s mood finally seemed to pick up. 

“So when are we eating?” he asked his sister, eyeing the contents of the large oven from the corner of his eye as Sue had just finished putting the peeled potatoes in a casserole with cold water. 

“Uh, not before three or four,” she replied, putting the lid on and wiping the countertop. As always, the kitchen looked immaculate and as if nobody had been preparing food in there all morning. 

“What? But that’s still two hours away. What’s taking so long?” Johnny asked, already feeling somewhat hungry. Their usual late Thanksgiving breakfast had not been as opulent as the past year - another result of the strained, distant atmosphere between them. 

Sue visibly suppressed a chuckle and folded her arms in front of her chest. “The twelve pound turkey? And no, before you suggest it, you’re not helping speed things up. You nearly burned the whole thing last time.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” he replied defensively, “I merely singled the wings a little, and we still had more than enough of the whole bird left.” 

Okay, the drumsticks had been a little dark too, but the breast had been just fine, Johnny thought. 

Next to him, T.J. looked at neither of them in particular before he let his gaze wander around the kitchen, the small smile on his lips more for show than genuine, Johnny could tell. “Anything else you need help with?” he asked Sue.

“If you want to, you can help Reed set the table. Just… make sure to leave a bit more room around Ben’s seat.” 

T.J. nodded, and, upon being instructed to do so, took a pack of napkins with him. Everything else was in the cabinets in the dining room. 

That left the Storm siblings alone in the kitchen, and Johnny already wondered what task Sue had planned to take care of next or whether he could go and watch the first game, when she spoke up. 

“Okay, tell me what’s going on.” 

It was more of an impulse than conscious thought to give her a puzzled look and shake his head when he said, “Nothing’s going on. What do you mean?”

“Oh don’t give me that,” Sue replied, arms crossed in front of her chest again. “I can see something’s up. Especially with T.J. He’s not nearly as cheerful as usual, and you’ve been putting on some kind of mask too. So tell me. What’s wrong?”

Johnny deflated, taking a deep breath that came back out as a sigh as he battled with himself to decide whether he should to talk to her about everything or not. After all, T.J. could come back any moment. But Sue’s gaze was fixed on him, and he knew she wouldn’t have it if he just brushed it all off. It was just that this whole thing was so complicated that he didn’t even know where to start. 

“We’ve kinda been fighting a bit lately,” he tried and saw his sister raise her brows, mild concern in her eyes. 

“About what?” 

“Well,” Johnny started, making a wavy motion with one arm. “Most recently about him not coming to my race next weekend.” 

“I gathered you wouldn’t like that, but it’s not T.J.’s fault, is it?” she asked patiently as she did in such situations. Johnny knew she already knew the answer, but she obviously wanted him to say it nevertheless. It had been one of the first topics that had come up after their arrival, and T.J. had explained the circumstances to her that made it impossible for him to attend. 

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted, rubbing his forehead with one hand as he leaned against the counter, unsatisfied with his own answer. “It’s just… I somehow can’t shake the feeling that he is relieved something came up.”

“Relieved? Why?” This time, Sue did seem genuinely surprised. 

“I dunno,” Johnny said, a bitter chuckle escaping him before he could even put his thought into words. Thoughts that had followed him around lately, fueling his disappointment. “It just seems like he hates everything I do lately. You know, I’ve gone to all those concerts when he first started performing again. And you know I don’t really care for classical music, but I went there for him.” It hurt a little. Just saying this and being reminded that once T.J. had the chance to return the favour, he didn’t. “And I didn’t do it grudgingly or anything. They were actually quite good, and I know how important all that stuff is for him, so I was always all on board. Still am.” 

“And you think he isn’t?” Sue asked.

Johnny could only shrug, hoping he was wrong after all. 

“Have you tried talking about it? I mean, have you told him exactly what you told me just now?” 

“No, I haven’t,” Johnny said. “It doesn’t look like that’s working anyway because we always end up fighting somehow. And then he ends the argument and walks out on me or…” Johnny briefly wanted to mention that T.J. seemed to be drinking more again, particularly in these situations, but it was a mix of feeling embarrassed for him and ashamed of himself for somehow causing it that made him not mention the fact. And that thought, again, only added to all of his frustration because he certainly did not want to feel responsible for something that wasn’t his decision. “I dunno,” he concluded instead. 

Sue regarded him for a long moment, brow furrowed in contemplation, and she took a little step closer, tilting her head softly. “Don’t get this the wrong way, Johnny, but you can get a little hot-headed and harsh sometimes if your emotions get the better of you. Maybe that’s why he’s been ending the arguments instead of talking things through with you?”

“Oh great, now it’s my fault,” he said with sarcastic defeat. 

“I didn’t say it was your fault,” Sue said, tone still gentle, obviously not reacting to his passive-aggressiveness. “It’s just that sometimes our ways of communication don’t match perfectly, and that can be a problem. I’m sure if you sit down and talk about this with an open mind and without accusing each other you can fix it. I mean having quarrels is pretty normal in any relationship.”

It all sounded so reasonable when she said it, but for some reason that Johnny couldn’t quite explain he had a hard time picturing such a conversation and wondering whether T.J. was not going to pretend everything was forgiven while, in fact, still holding a grudge. 

“It’s not just the race we’ve been fighting about,” he continued after a while. “He doesn’t like the people I hang out with lately. He doesn’t want to come along when I meet them, but he also complained we didn’t spend enough time together alone. That’s a pretty shitty situation I’m in!” 

“Well, again, don’t get this wrong, but if it’s Mick and any friends of his that T.J. has a problem with I kind of see where he’s coming from,” Sue said, and that made Johnny look at her incredulously. 

“Why? What the fuck is wrong with Mick?”

“I know you like him, but he’s a bit of a douchebag,” Sue replied, no venom in her tone but a hint of resigned amusement.  

“Why is Mick a douchebag? He’s a great guy!” Johnny replied defensively. “He’s been a great friend to me and helped me more than any other person I knew back then. He gave me a spot on his team and a car because he saw potential in me. I wish people would acknowledge that instead of nitpicking at his being not one hundred percent politically correct all the time. Fuck that!  _ I’m _ not one hundred percent politically correct all the time either, and last time I checked you and T.J. don’t think  _ I’m _ a douchebag for that reason.” 

“You’re not a douchebag,” Sue said in a mildly patronising but affectionate way. “But T.J. wasn’t there when nobody wanted to let a rookie like you race, and T.J. didn’t know you when being a race car driver was one of your biggest dreams. You’re a different person now. You have a different perspective in life, a completely different social circle. And, if you’re perfectly honest with yourself, you, ten years ago, would not have entered a serious relationship and moved in with someone to build a life together. Let alone with another guy.” 

What she said wasn’t wrong, Johnny knew that. He knew he had changed and grown over the years, but he failed to see what that had to do with the tension between him and T.J. and why all they did lately was fight. 

“But as you said, T.J. didn’t know me back then. So why should he feel threatened just because I’m reconnecting with some old friends again?” 

“I don’t know,” Sue said. “That’s something you’d have to ask T.J., not me.”  

Johnny let out a soft groan, shaking his head slightly. “Okay, I just hope it won’t end with him playing things down again or ending the conversation or something.” 

“If you’re entering the conversation with that attitude then I’m sure that’s exactly what’s gonna happen,” Sue said, for the first time sounding reproachful, and a part of him knew she had good reason to. 

“Yeah okay. Open mind and all,” he conceded, hoping it would work out. “I’ll try my best.” 

 

~*~

 

They did not find the time to talk the following days. On Saturday, they had Frankie over so Sue and Reed could finally spend that evening alone as they had wanted for so long. And after that, T.J. was busy with press appointments or meeting other musicians that would accompany him and Ella for a few songs, and Johnny had some things to take care of before heading to Miami himself. Despite his good intentions, Wednesday evening came, and they had resolved nothing. 

Johnny was struggling with himself as soon as T.J. got home from his meeting with a journalist. They still had some time, they could talk - properly talk - now and get this whole issue out of the way for good. But would they? Was it something that could be discussed properly and solved within an hour, leaving enough time for them to have dinner and at least enjoy each other’s company for a little while before Johnny would be gone for four whole days? What if it didn’t work out and the whole thing turned into a fight again, on the last evening before he left? It was that worst case scenario that Johnny dreaded so much, not making him want to tempt fate. 

And after all, even though the atmosphere between them hadn’t been the best over the past few days, it wasn’t like they didn’t talk or continued to snap at each other at every occasion. Maybe, instead of discussing past things ad nauseam he could find a way to assure them both of the things they doubted. 

“So,” Johnny started, joining T.J. in the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of water. “What do you wanna do tonight?” 

T.J. looked at him, something wary flashing over his eyes for a second before he put on a small smile. “I don’t know. What did you have in mind? Do you… want to go out?” 

The question caused a flurry of mixed feelings and thoughts in him. Why did T.J. automatically assume he wanted to go out again? And if he had, why did T.J. always have to be so bothered by it. Then again, it also meant that T.J. wanted to spend the evening alone with him, and that  _ was _ a good thing - at least now, considering Johnny hadn’t been so sure whether T.J. had cared much for his company over the past week. Maybe he was just being stupid, and maybe he was -  _ definitely _ \- overthinking everything, and it was time he grabbed the bull by the horns instead of being a helpless moron. 

He came around the kitchen island and stood right in front of T.J., crooking his head slightly and laying a hand on the small of T.J.’s back. “No. I don’t wanna go out. I want to spend the evening with you.” As the words were out they became less of a strategy and more of a truth. “With you and a giant pizza. How does that sound?” 

For a moment, T.J. regarded him with an unreadable expression, and Johnny already felt his fears confirmed just before a smile formed on T.J.’s lips as well and he nodded. “Okay. That sounds good.” 

“Great,” Johnny said, feeling something in him unknot with relief. He brushed a short kiss to T.J.’s lips and patted his hip twice. “How about I order and then we can sit down and you tell me about your interview. Pepperoni and mushrooms?” 

“Sure. And yeah, that’s fine,” he replied as Johnny went to make the call. 

They did talk about T.J.’s day after that. The interview, apparently, had gone really well and been filled with interesting questions about his musical influence and the creative process, and T.J. was hoping it’d get them some additional attention for their upcoming concert. While he talked, Johnny made sure to show him that he was interested and enthusiastic about everything for T.J.’s sake, but when no questions about his upcoming race came, Johnny was reminded of what he had told Sue, and that sinking feeling in the back of his mind rose again. 

Their pizza arrived and they turned on the TV, catching the gazillionth repeat of Jurassic Park and watching it while they were eating. And then, it finally came. 

“Guess you could easily outrun a T-Rex with your race car, huh?” 

The tight knot that had started to form in Johnny’s stomach began to uncurl. “Oh yeah, you bet. Not sure I’d do great on muddy ground with slicks, though.” 

T.J.’s brow furrowed slightly as he swallowed his bite of pizza. “You’re driving on slicks?” 

“Well, no. At least not slicks like they use on F1 or Indycar,” Johnny explained. “But they’re compound tires that have a lot less profile than street tires, so close enough. I was just trying to make a joke. But since there are currently no dinosaurs in Miami, the closest thing that could happen is a bird pooping on my car.” 

“I bet you’d hate that even more than being chased by a T-Rex,” T.J. said, and Johnny had to laugh. 

So maybe he had been a little stupid about all of this, and things were fine between them after all, and all it took was a little humour and mutual attention. 

“Are you excited yet?” T.J. asked after a while, his last slice of pizza in his hand while Johnny had just finished his. 

“Oh yeah. That race in Hungary was fun, too, but this is so much bigger. It’s like a proper, professional race, and I haven’t done that in ages.” 

T.J. regarded him for a while, the smile on his lips slowly fading to a slightly more contemplative look. “Just be careful, okay?” 

Johnny’s first impulse was to brush it off but he knew that even he wasn’t invincible and T.J.’s worries not completely unfounded. So instead he nodded and said, “I will. Promise.” 

“Good,” T.J. replied and put his slice back into the carton, a hand on his belly and groaning slightly. “I’m too full. If I eat this I won’t be able to move for the rest of the evening.” 

“I’ll have it for breakfast before I head out,” Johnny replied immediately, hoping that T.J.’s concerns for not being able to move meant what he thought they meant. They hadn’t had sex since before their last fight. 

“And tell me how it goes,” T.J. said as he sat back again, leaning against Johnny’s side who laid an arm around his shoulders immediately. And that, too, had been something he’d really missed. 

“Will do. Tomorrow I’m just getting to know the car. First track training is on Friday and then the qualifying on Saturday. But I’ll call you as soon as I have time.” 

“You’d better,” T.J. replied, snuggling a little closer against Johnny’s side, one hand coming around his middle. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Johnny said softly, face resting against the top of T.J.’s head, kissing his hair. 

“Me too,” T.J. replied, and why the hell had they both wasted so much time being mad at each other for a ton of stupid reasons? They could have had this much sooner. 

They sat there in their comfortable embrace for a good while, finishing the movie and chatting about it every now and then. When the credits started rolling, Johnny sat up a bit and turned to look at T.J. as he said, “Think you can move now or still too full?”

“I said I’d be too full to move if I ate that last slice,” he replied, a small smirk around his features. “So yeah. I can move. Anywhere particular you wanted to move to?” 

Johnny pretended to ponder this question for a moment before a chuckle escaped him. “How about the bedroom?” 

In lieu of a reply, T.J. leaned in and brought his lips to Johnny’s, softly, gently kissing him for a long moment. “I think I can move that far.” 

Johnny felt a wide smile on his lips before he got up, holding T.J.’s hand to pull him up and lead him towards the stairs. Who ever said you needed lengthy discussions when pizza and some tender loving care could achieve the same result? Or even a better one, he thought before they reached the upper landing and he captured T.J.’s lips in another, much longer kiss. 


	9. Chapter 9

“Can we go over the transition from the chorus to the verse one more time? I just want to make sure. And... did you write down the change after ‘shining star’? I kinda don’t have it here. T.J.?” 

“Huh?” T.J. looked over at Ella from the piano stool, his phone in his left hand and the pen forgotten in his right, his mind anywhere but on the sheet music in front of him. “Sorry, I… what change did you want?” 

Ella eyed him for a moment, the mildest trace of exasperation in her brown eyes for a second. Then, her gaze turned warmer and she put her own copy of the sheet music down on the dining table, coming over to T.J. and leaning against the top of the piano. “Okay, what’s the matter?” she asked gently. 

T.J. tried to suppress a sigh but failed. “Johnny was supposed to text or call me after the qualifying. It must’ve been like over two hours ago. I sent him a message a while ago, but so far no answer.” 

There was a small, sympathetic smile on her lips as she leaned over a little closer, putting one hand on his shoulder in an encouraging gesture. “I’m sure he’s just busy. Press interviews or going over the results. Or, whatever race car drivers do, tweaking the settings or something,” she suggested, and yes, T.J. had to admit that all of those scenarios seemed very likely. 

It wasn’t only that he was worried about Johnny’s safety, though. Yes, car racing was a dangerous sport and he couldn’t deny that he’d feel a lot better if Johnny was participating in a baseball tournament or something a lot less life-threatening. But above all that, he felt disappointed that Johnny had let him down, had once more not stayed true to his promises. Had it not been for the remaining worry that something  _ could _ have happened after all, T.J. would have been primarily angry. 

“Come on, let’s take a break and make some coffee,” Ella said. “I think we’ve made great progress so far already. Time to refuel and lift our spirits.” 

T.J. couldn’t help but nod and feel the tiniest smile twitch around his lips as well, Ella’s warmth and positivity too catching not to respond to it. 

“Can’t you check the results online?” she asked as they made their way to the kitchen where she already opened the cupboard above the coffee maker, not giving T.J. the chance to do so himself. 

“Good idea,” he said and started looking into it on his phone while she put the coffee beans into the attached grinder. 

“For a home-use device, this baby here is as close as it gets to every barista's dream,” she said as she put the ground coffee into the portafilter, a wide, catching smile on her lips that made him unable not to at least smile back a little. 

“We bought it when we moved in here,” he said, as he was on his second google search, waiting for the page to load. 

“I bet it wasn’t cheap,” she replied. “It’s really not so much different from the one at the café I used to work at. Just that we had six groupheads on ours. Do you want a latte, cappuccino or just espresso?” 

“Cappuccino, please,” he said, finally having a readable and correct webpage in front of him, skimming the live-feed-like article about the race swiftly but thoroughly. His heart nearly skipped a beat when his eyes caught the word ‘accident’, but as he read on, he found out with relief that it had been a different driver, and that the only damage caused had been to the chassis. 

Then, at last, he reached the results of the qualifying, and this time his eyes widened in surprise when he read who had obtained the pole position, but the feeling quickly paired with bitter frustration again. “Wow, yeah. Guess you were right and he really is just busy.” 

And sure enough, right underneath the listing, was a picture of Johnny next to his car, arms raised victoriously in the air, and… a short distance to his left, next to Mick, a different familiar face that made T.J.’s heart race with anger: Patrick’s. 

He put his phone onto the counter a little forcefully and let out a frustrated groan. 

“What’s up?” Ella asked, her fine brows raised in surprise and concern as she was pouring the frothed milk into two large cups. 

“It’s… just the people he hangs out with lately, is all,” T.J. replied, rubbing his forehead against what felt like an emerging headache. 

“Oh,” Ella replied, studying him for a moment and, with her attentive gaze, prompted him to continue. 

“They’re all douchebags,” he groaned out. “Horrible, pretentious, bragging bigots, and he apparently thinks they’re  _ so much fun _ ! Because they like fast cars and know how to party and have a dozen pretty girls surround them.” 

“Oh. That sounds annoying,” she replied, handing him his cup and putting a hand between his shoulder blades to lead him to the bar stools at the kitchen island. 

“It is. It’s fucking frustrating. Because he’s not like that. He’s not one of those… one of those utter  _ douche-bros _ who talk about women like they own them and think they’re so smart and sophisticated for having a stupid  _ yacht _ in some mediterranean harbor while, in fact, being nothing else than some stupid deep-south rednecks with too much money.” 

It had turned into a rather excited rant, and despite the sympathy that was clear on Ella’s features, she obviously could not suppress a tiny chuckle. “Wow. That sounds like a lot. And a lot like some of the people you used to hang out with.” 

That struck him somewhat and he leaned back to look at her. 

“Except for maybe the part about women. As most of them were gay,” she added and gently blew on the surface of her cappuccino before she took a tentative sip. 

T.J. only huffed out an irritated breath and stirred sugar into his coffee, and it took a good while for him to come up with a reply. “I used to hang out with a lot of awful people, but I learned my lesson. I’m not in contact with any of them anymore.” 

_ If you had friends.  _

The words stung in his memory even if they had been uttered almost two weeks ago. 

“And I honestly don’t get it. Johnny has amazing friends. The whole gang around Nicky and Jared, they’re all absolutely lovely and great and he adores them. I don’t understand why that wasn’t enough and why he’s having a… I dunno, early midlife-crisis or something all of the sudden.” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Ella admitted, propped up on one elbow as she looked over at him. “I’ve only met Johnny once, so I can’t really say anything. Maybe it’s just a phase and it’ll blow over.” 

“What if it doesn’t?” T.J. couldn’t help asking. “It’s like… he’s a completely different person around them, and it kinda feels like this part of him was there all along and I’m only just getting to know it.” And he definitely didn’t like it, not one bit, and that thought scared him beyond anything. 

“Maybe he’s just easily influenced. Doesn’t mean he has to share each of their beliefs and opinions, though,” she shrugged softly. “Have you talked to him about it?” 

T.J. shook his head, lowering his gaze and watching the spoon draw patterns on the milky foam in his cup. “That’s another thing. Whenever the topic comes up he immediately gets irritated… even aggressive. I have no idea how to approach the topic without it ending in a huge fight again. So I don’t.” 

“So, what did you do? You fought and then… how did you make up again?” 

“We didn’t. I mean, we kinda did, but we never talked about anything. It was just Johnny being Johnny, all sweet and funny, and sweeping everything else under the carpet.” That and the sex, which, in hindsight did feel like another strategy to push any difficulties and issues to the background and let T.J. remember only the good parts. 

“Hm,” Ella hummed before she took another sip, gazing into the distance in contemplation. “Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk things through?” 

“Yeah, looks like it. Every time we tried he yelled at me,” T.J. replied with a sarcastic chuckle. “And the last fight was worse than the one be-- Oh, for fuck’s sake.  _ Now _ he’s calling!” 

T.J. got up and sprinted over to his phone, but once he reached it he contemplated for a moment to simply let it ring. In the end, his impatience and curiosity got the better of him and he picked up. “Hi,” he said curtly, not even trying to hide his disappointment. 

“Hey babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t call earlier,” Johnny started. Whether he had caught the irritated tone or not, he didn’t let it show. “My phone was still in the locker room, and I only managed to get there now.” 

“Uh huh, okay. What’s been keeping you?” T.J. asked, the attempt to sound at least somewhat casual now failing miserably. 

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Johnny replied, “Well, at first there were reporters who wanted interviews and… Oh, by the way, I came in first. Pole position for tomorrow.” 

“That’s great,” T.J. said, deciding not to mention that he already knew. 

“Yeah, it’s awesome. It was a really tight race, too. Svenson had the best time for the last few laps, and I had only one more left, but my car was getting lighter and I actually beat his time by one tenth of a second on my final lap.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, that’s awesome,” T.J. replied, and despite his anger up until now, there were mixed feelings in his chest: guilt paired with lingering frustration. He should at least try to be happy for Johnny, shouldn’t he? 

“You’re mad,” Johnny stated, and it was hard to tell whether his own tone was just disappointed or picking up in temper too. 

“Yeah Johnny, I’m a little mad,” T.J. confessed at last. “You promised you’d call me, and now it’s been over two hours. You were in a car race. Something could have happened to you and you left me waiting. How would you feel walking in my shoes?”

Again, there was a pause before T.J. heard a deep exhale. “Okay, yeah, that was not so good. I admit that. But I was really excited, and there were interviewers and photographers and people who were congratulating me, and somehow time flew by much faster than I’d have thought. It really didn’t feel like two hours.” 

T.J. wasn’t fully satisfied with the explanation. He’d have liked an earnest apology, an expression that Johnny understood that his actions had T.J. worried and that he really never meant to cause that. But he was going to take it, not wanting to start yet another fight over the phone, over a distance of thirteen hundred miles. 

“So, who else did you meet?” he asked, wanting to give Johnny a chance to disclose what he already knew, and he hoped his voice did sound casual enough. 

“Dale Jarrett was there!” Johnny replied, voice rising with enthusiasm. “And Bobby Allison. They’re famous NASCAR drivers. Jarrett was actually sponsoring one of the other teams, but he came to congratulate me anyway. It was so amazing to meet them, you have no idea.” 

“That sounds great. Did you take any pictures?” T.J. asked, hoping that at least this would prompt Johnny to mention Patrick. Because he had no idea how to worm it out of him without making it sound like an accusation and like he’d been stalking him online. 

“Yeah, I did,” Johnny replied. “I’ll send them in a second.”

“Great. Can’t wait.” So that hadn’t worked either. “So what are you doing for the rest of the day? Go to bed early or got something planned?” 

“No idea yet,” Johnny answered. “Still need to go over some data with the team. Then I’ll have dinner with the other guys. Maybe  _ one _ drink after that and yeah…. Probably going to bed early. Warm up’s at nine. How’s rehearsal going?” 

T.J. did his best to suppress a sigh, realising that he probably wasn’t going to get that bit of information out of Johnny. And maybe he shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it, he told himself. At least, Patrick wasn’t hitting on Johnny. 

“It’s going well. Ella is amazing. I can’t wait for you to finally hear her.” He looked over at his friend who had busied herself with her own phone while he was speaking, but had definitely caught his words, looking up now and sending a warm, radiant smile his way. 

“I can’t wait either. That recording from your last concert already sounded great. Anyway… I guess I need to get going. I could call you tonight when I’m back at the hotel?” 

“If you have time for that?” T.J. replied tentatively, not wanting to go through yet another broken promise when it could be avoided. 

“Yeah, of course I do!” Johnny replied instantly, and that, finally sent a small smile onto T.J.’s lips. 

“Okay, then I’ll talk to you later. Have fun.” 

“You too. Bye!” 

“Bye.” 

T.J. still looked at the display for a moment longer, in thought. There definitely hadn’t been anything outright unpleasant or upsetting about their conversation - nothing that should actually cause T.J. any worries - but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Had been for a good while, ever since Mick had come into town and they’d been on a constant up and down route. And the ups these days felt much more fragile than ever before.  

“Everything okay?” Ella asked, and T.J. finally looked back up. 

“Yeah. It’s fine. He just couldn’t get to his phone, as you said.” 

She gave him a small, encouraging smile, but her forehead was furrowed in thought as she eyed him.

“What?” he asked, knowing that look. 

Ella held his gaze, well-meaning but stern. “You were a bit hard on him, don’t you think?”

“Me? Hard on him?” he asked in mild disbelief, and she gave him a half shrug. 

“I can imagine he expected you to be a bit happier for him.”

“I am!” he retorted instantly, but deep down knew she had a point. “I explained it to him. I was mad because he didn’t call and had me worried.”

“Which you have every right to be,” she replied, holding her palms up. “But still, I’m sure this means a great deal to him.” She left the statement open there, not reprimanding him again, and he was half grateful for it, half annoyed that it didn’t really give him much opportunity to defend himself. Instead, he just let out a soft sigh before he finished his cappuccino. 

He’d been really terrible, hadn’t he? Johnny had always been so supportive of him, and he couldn’t even bring himself to share the same kind of enthusiasm for his passion. 

“Okay,” Ella started, having finished her own cup and getting up from the barstool. “Once more from the top?” 

T.J. just nodded, deciding to put everything else in the back of his mind. “From the top.” 

 

~*~

 

Johnny’s body was humming with excited anticipation as the tall buildings of New York City came into view on his flight. He had taken his suit with him and flown straight from Miami after the last set of interviews even though there had been the prospect of a big party to celebrate his victory. And although he would have loved to go, he was more keen on seeing T.J. again, celebrate with  _ him _ and stick to his promise. When he had crossed the finish line and seen the chequered flag his first thought had been T.J., and the need to take him into his arms and share his euphoria with him had slowly changed and amplified to a slow, pleasantly sizzling feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

It was hardly a minute later when he landed on the balcony of their apartment. It was dark already, and the glow of his flame in the last moments of his flight must have alerted T.J. to look his way. Johnny didn’t even have to knock at the balcony door this time, and a wide smile spread on his face when he saw his boyfriend, a mirroring, slightly smaller smile on his lips as well. 

“Wow, that was great timing. I just got back from taking Ella to the airport,” T.J. said and Johnny realised that the trip had taken him a bit shorter than anticipated. 

“Good thing you didn’t get stuck in any traffic jam, or I’d have had to wait out here,” he replied before he crossed the last remaining distance and wrapped his arms around T.J.’s middle. 

“Well at least you wouldn’t have been cold,” T.J. replied, his smile turning into a gently teasing smirk as he put his arms on Johnny’s shoulders. “Congratulations, again.” 

“Thanks!” Johnny replied immediately, and then, finally, kissed T.J. on the lips, enthusiastic and deep. That excited feeling in his middle grew stronger, made him tingle with it and with the exhilaration of victory that further fueled the sensation. He barely broke the kiss to push T.J. back through the door, closing it behind him quickly before he pressed his lips to T.J.’s once more, pulling him even closer against his body. “God, I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I crossed the finish line.” 

“Do what?” T.J. asked, brows slightly raised. 

“Tear your clothes off,” he replied and pulled at the hem of T.J.’s sweater, grinning. “Good thing you weren’t there.” 

“Really?  _ That’s _ what you’d have done?” T.J. asked, and it seemed like his question was less flattered and more mocking, making Johnny roll his eyes and huff out a laugh. 

“Yeah! What can I say? Winning makes me horny. In fact, I had a boner all throughout the finishing lap.” 

That made T.J. laugh softly, shaking his head. “You’re impossible. Don’t you want something to eat first? Or a shower?”

“I’m not hungry,” Johnny replied. “And I took a shower right after I got out of my racing suit. So… nope, don’t need that either.” To emphasise his intentions, he held T.J. by the small of his back and brought their hips closer together, the contact already causing him to feel the tightness of his suit more strongly than usual. He leaned in a bit closer, barely brushing his lips against T.J.’s cheek before he said, in not much more than a whisper, “All I want right now is to get you out of these clothes and take you to bed.”

There was a pause and the tiniest of sounds coming from T.J., a minuscule sigh. Then he nodded against the side of Johnny’s head. “Okay.” 

Up in their bedroom, they were out of their clothes pretty quickly, Johnny made sure of it, impatient to feel T.J.’s body pressed against his, taste his skin, feel the shivers under his fingertips as he ran them all over his body. And it still always felt so amazing to be inside of him, especially now, today, when he had been hardly able to wait to get home. Be with T.J., feel this. Experience it with all the excited energy that was still buzzing inside of him.

Until finally, all that exhilarated energy faded from him, and he all but collapsed next to T.J., letting the slight draft in the bedroom cool his heated skin. 

“Wow, that was amazing,” he got out at last, his breathing slowly returning to normal. 

T.J., next to him, was sitting up, and Johnny saw him give him a small smile. “Yeah, it was. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Hey! Already?” Johnny asked, reaching out a hand to grab T.J. by the wrist and pull him back down again. “Stay here for a moment. I can’t really get up yet.” He laughed, shaking his head at himself. Maybe he was getting old, but he was not going to say that. 

T.J. did lie back down, but it was Johnny who wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close while T.J. rolled onto his side, back nestled against Johnny’s chest. 

“I know it’s been only four days, but I’ve missed this,” Johnny said as he brushed a gentle kiss to T.J.’s shoulder, soaking in the scent of fresh sweat and feeling the softness of T.J.’s skin under his fingertips. He really had missed this. Maybe not even so much during the racing days in Miami but the time before when things had been rough and shaky between them, more distant than he’d ever have liked to experience. He was so glad that part was finally over. 

“I really need a shower now. I feel gross,” T.J. said after a short while, moving gingerly to uncurl himself from Johnny’s embrace, but Johnny pressed him against his body a little closer once more. 

“Aww, you’re not gross. You’re delicious,” he said, emphasising his words with a playfully loud smacking kiss to T.J.’s neck. “I could eat you up.” 

There was a very soft, breathy chuckle coming from T.J., more of a huff really, and at last he wriggled out of Johnny’s grasp. “Sorry, but I really want to shower now. You can stay here if you like.”

Johnny heaved an exaggerated sigh but let himself flop onto his back. “Right, you’re a big boy, you can do this alone. But don’t forget to wash behind the ears!” 

There was another of those half-laughs coming from T.J., a tiny, crooked smile on his lips, and Johnny thought he looked rather tired. It probably had been a long weekend for him, too. Johnny, himself, was starting to feel the exertion of the past few days as well. 

“I’ll be with you in a minute. If not, I’ve fallen asleep,” he said, stretching out on the bed and watching T.J. start towards the bathroom. “Wake me up if that happens, okay? I still need to tell you all about the race.” 

That small smile was still on T.J.’s lips as he looked back and nodded. “Okay,” he said and disappeared through the door. 

Johnny allowed himself to close his eyes for just a moment, still basking in the feeling of pleasant exhaustion and the knowledge that everything in his life was so much better than he’d ever dreamed it to be. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday again, and of course I'm posting another chapter. My beta-reader Indigo said she'll do her best to finish chapter 11 before Christmas, too, so that I can update as usual. If it doesn't work out, please be understanding as she has a really busy week ahead.   
> Also, thanks again for all your comments. <3 And if I don't update on Christmas then merry Christmas to you all.

The week started and continued busily - as so often in recent months. On Monday, T.J. had another press appointment and spent several hours practicing. On Tuesday, an emergency called the Fantastic Four to Chicago, where there had been an explosion in a hospital. The rescue workers had been unable to get inside the building that threatened to collapse due to the vast structural damage in the basement, but luckily for all the remaining patients and staff, Johnny and the other three prevented the catastrophe. There had been several injured but, miraculously, no dead from what, according to police investigation, turned out to be a rather amateurish act of terrorism. Naturally, Wednesday was filled with consultations and more press, and in the evening T.J. had another small performance. 

Thursday, at long last, came with nothing on either T.J.’s or Johnny’s schedule, and they started the morning with visiting the gym together as they’d planned for so long, followed by brunch at home. It had started raining the previous evening and not stopped ever since, making it an easy decision to just stay at home and relax in front of the TV for the most part of the day. It did not stay at that alone, though, and sometime during the afternoon, they found themselves sprawled out on their big couch, their clothes strewn across the floor. T.J. was lying on his back, Johnny half above him with his head resting against T.J.’s shoulder as he cooled down, pleasantly exhausted and a little sleepy.

T.J. was quiet, just letting his fingertips stroke through the hair at the back of Johnny’s head, and for a long while, Johnny didn’t come up with anything to say either. Maybe they were both a little tired, which was no surprise with the abysmal weather out there.

“Hm, no immediate shower this time?” Johnny asked at last and tried for a mildly teasing smirk as he looked up.

“You’re right. I probably should,” T.J. replied, having taken Johnny’s words seriously.

Johnny laughed softly before he brushed his lips against T.J.’s. “I was joking. You can stay. We’re both a bit gross and sweaty but who cares?”

The smile on T.J.’s lips was tiny, barely noticeable, and he took a deep breath that sounded like a stifled yawn.

“So, just two more days til your big concert, huh?” Johnny asked then, not wanting to go back to silence this time, and finally, the smile on T.J.’s lips turned a little brighter.

“Yeah,“ he said softly. “There are going to be a lot of interesting guests this time. Press too. I hope they’ll like it.”

“I’m sure they will,” Johnny said. He shifted a little, sliding to T.J.’s side, only their legs still entwined while he propped his weight on one elbow. “And I can’t wait to see Ella again and maybe talk to her for a little longer than this summer. And finally hear her sing.”

“You’ll love her. She’s amazing,” T.J. replied.

“Yeah. I’m sure I will.”

They fell silent again after that, and finally T.J. shifted too, fumbling for his boxer briefs on the floor and putting them on, prompting Johnny to do the same, before he wiped off his stomach and chest with the couch cover. They’d been planning to wash it anyway.

“Want anything to drink?” T.J. asked as he started towards the kitchen.

“Water,” he replied and reached for his phone on the coffee table. There was an unread message from Patrick. Johnny glanced back over his shoulder, more on instinct than any conscious thought. It wouldn’t really have been possible for T.J. to come back that quickly, and even if, there was no reason why he should not see the message. It wasn’t like he and Patrick had some kind of affair or anything. The thought briefly made him chuckle, and he pushed any other to the back of his mind, finding that he was being ridiculous.

_ Hey dude, found you some potential sponsors. Big dinner party at my house at the Hamptons tomorrow. How does that sound? _

Johnny frowned slightly. It did sound amazing, but that was the night before the concert, and Ella would arrive late that evening. They had  _ just _ talked about him meeting her properly. He typed a reply.

_ Dunno man. I’m kinda engaged otherwise. _

He could hear glasses clinking on the counter top, water being poured into them and the sounds of T.J.’s quiet steps over the hardwood floor as he came back. His phone chimed again.

_ Wow dude, lame. I’m saying I found you a sponsor. Semi professional racing in a new 6 race cup. That’s too good to pass on. Don’t be a pussy and come up here. Mick will pick you up. _

Johnny suppressed a sigh and put his phone on the couch next to him, accepting the glass of water from his boyfriend.

“Thanks. You know, straight out of the bottle would’ve been fine, too.”

“Sorry. Want me to get you the bottle?” T.J. asked in all seriousness again, and, among some amusement, Johnny felt a sudden surge of annoyance rise in him.

“Geez, T.J., since when can you not tell when I’m joking anymore?” He let his question end with a laugh, not wanting T.J. to take anything else from it, to read into it that he  _ was _ annoyed. Which he shouldn’t really be.

“Sorry,” T.J. replied, shaking his head softly and running a hand over his forehead. “Guess I’m just tired, is all.”

“That is ‘get your own damn bottle, Johnny, I’m not your maid!’,” he tried for another joke to lighten the mood, and finally it did weasel a small smile out of his boyfriend.

“Well then go do that.”

“Right,” Johnny said and got up, taking his phone with him. As soon as he was out of T.J.’s sight, however, the grin vanished from his features. Things had been so great on Sunday, but now Johnny couldn’t help but feel a sense of annoyance at realising that it may have been just a brief intermezzo going by how strained the mood between them was so often these days and despite the sex having been good just now. It had never been like that before, not even when T.J. was exhausted or stressed. He’d never been so submissive and resigned in situations that usually should be humorous. At worst, they had snapped and bitched at each other briefly, most of it forgotten five minutes later. But lately everything seemed to be… well, kind of a big issue.

Johnny took the water bottle out of the fridge and read the message on his phone again, wondering what to respond. It chimed and vibrated in his hand, but this time, it was a message from Mick.

_ You’ve got to come Johnny boy. Your in for a teat. Oops damn this phone. Treat. _

Johnny suppressed a snort of laughter, coughing and pointedly taking a large gulp of water.

The thought occurred to him, unbidden, that he hadn’t had a proper laugh with T.J. for a long time now. 

_ T.J. and I had plans, actually. His friend is coming over. _

After he’d sent the text, he opened the fridge door again, looking for a snack - or rather pretending to do so.

_ Bring them along. We’ve got enough champagne and lobster for two more _ , came the reply from Patrick, making it clear to Johnny that the two of them were obviously together right now, reading each other’s messages. And, a second later one from Mick:  _ If your not coming I’m never speaking to you again. _

Johnny suppressed another chuckle and replied:  _ How very mature of you. _

He picked a slice of turkey breast out of the fridge after all and walked back to the couch, stopping at the armchair and leaning against its back.

“So, when’s Ella’s plane landing again tomorrow?” he asked.

“Seven thirty. Why?” There was a mild look of suspicion on T.J.’s face, and once again, Johnny realised he had to pick his words carefully and strategically.

“You don’t think you two’d be up for a dinner party at the Hamptons that night? No, never mind, forget it. I’m sure you’ve gotta practice.” He let out a soft sigh but smiled at T.J. nevertheless, letting himself fall down onto the armchair, feet up on the couch and toes of one foot reaching for T.J.’s knee.

T.J., however, frowned slightly at him, head tilted. “Who’s asking?”

“Like I said. Forget it. It was a bad idea. You wouldn’t want to go anyway, so, no, I’m staying here as planned.”

T.J.’s expression changed from curious to visibly, yet mildly, irritated. “Patrick.” That part, at least, had been inevitable. So far, it looked like his strategy might be working.

“Yeah. He’s been talking to some sponsors and wants me to meet them. But I’m sure I can do that another time.”

“What kind of sponsors?” T.J. wanted to know, and Johnny gave him a small shrug.

“Just someone in the racing business. We’ve been talking about the possibility of me doing semi-professional races again. A few people in the business are setting up a new cup. But, I dunno… It’d probably be a bit time-consuming. And between your concerts and practice and my doing that…” He made a waving motion with his hand, shrugging slightly again. Now, this was the pivot point that would either make T.J. agree with him or making the compromise, and Johnny was really hoping for the latter.

T.J. just looked at him for a long moment, possibly pondering both of those outcomes himself, and Johnny thought it was probably a bit unfair to manipulate him like that, indirectly guilt-trip him into giving Johnny what he wanted, but then again, was it really? Johnny had never been in the way, never complained when T.J. had started to pursue piano concerts again, quite contrary. He had supported him throughout it all over the past two years. He had often yielded to T.J.’s schedule while he would have liked to do something else. It was about time T.J. did the same for him for once.

In the end, he could see that his efforts had worked out. T.J.’s shoulders slumped somewhat under a half-suppressed sigh, his gaze went down to the surface of the coffee table, and he pressed his lips together in a humourless smile. “Go then. If it’s so important to you, then meet that sponsor.”

Johnny gave him a small smile, forcing himself to neither look nor sound too triumphant. “Thank you. And don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. I’ll be back the same night and definitely stay here on Saturday to see your concert. You know I really can’t wait to see it.“ That part, definitely, was no lie, and at last, the look on T.J.’s face turned a little softer.

“Okay. And Sunday we’re taking Ella sight-seeing, alright? I promised she’d get to see a bit more of the city next time around.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Johnny agreed, truthfully. “We’ll show her around and then drop her off at the airport together.”

“She’s taking a train back on Sunday.”

“Even better. Penn Station?” Johnny asked, and T.J. nodded. “Less time wasted driving through heavy traffic. It’ll be an awesome weekend,” he said, making it a promise.

So maybe things were a little more complicated and strained these days, but that didn’t mean the effort wasn’t worth it. Johnny smiled to himself and grabbed his phone.

_ Alright guys, you’ve got me. I’m coming. _

~*~

Patrick’s house - no, mansion! - was one of the most amazing places Johnny had ever seen in his life, and he’d seen many luxurious homes. The estate was huge and, knowing a bit about the prices up here, must have been expensive as fuck. So far, Johnny hadn’t even known just  _ how _ much money Patrick had. Or his family, in this instance, since this house wasn’t his alone. It was, however, a perfect mix of vintage and modern, spacious and luxuriously decorated but not overfilled, the architecture classic and functional as well as extravagant. The most impressive part of it was the swimming pool right in the centre of the house, an atrium with a glass ceiling that made Johnny stop and stare, wishing instantly T.J. could be here and see it despite his dislike for Patrick.

For a house this large, the group of guests at Patrick’s dinner party was rather small. Maybe twenty-five or thirty people - good friends and business partners of his and their girlfriends and wives, and, as seemed to be Patrick’s standard entourage, a couple of fashion models that were seated together at one of the round tables around the pool.

The food was amazing too. Due to the size of the group, it was not served at a table but on a buffet, with waiters and chefs, of course, who even prepared dishes like steak and loup de mer fresh at a little stand for each guest who wanted it. As much as he enjoyed all of it, Johnny felt just the tiniest bit out of place here. He was just glad this was no stiff and formal white tie occasion but one with guests that were rather casually dressed, the men with plain, button-up shirts, some even in jeans, and the women in party dresses rather than evening gowns.

Trish was there, too, standing by a group of people Johnny didn’t know. She looked, as usual, amazing in a dark pink, simple but figure-hugging dress.

“So, have you met Dennis yet?” she asked, finally having torn herself away from her group. She held two champagne glasses in hands, a coquettish smile on her lips as she handed one over to Johnny.

“The sponsor I’m supposed to talk to? Nope, not yet. I’m waiting for Patrick to introduce us.”

“Ah,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Where’s your better half tonight?”

Johnny gave her a small, regretful smile and shrugged. “Preparing for his concert tomorrow. His friend, the singer who’s performing with him tomorrow, she came up to New York tonight, so he couldn’t make it.” For a very small moment, Johnny had considered giving her a more truthful answer - after all, Mick knew that T.J. didn’t like Patrick, too - but he had decided against it, not wanting it to sound like T.J. was… well, difficult or judgemental. He couldn’t deny that it bothered him somewhat, however.

“Aww, such a shame. He’s missing out,” she said, tone sweet but something slightly mischievous twinkling in her eyes. “Well, his loss. All the more for us,” she said, and let her hand run down Johnny’s upper arm. 

“Oh, yeah! I’m definitely going to get myself some of that… is that Kobe beef?” he asked, nodding towards one of the stands where a cook was cutting perfectly pink slices off a large steak. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was,” Trish replied, hooking her arm through his as they slowly approached the table. “I want some of it too. Oh, and the lobster over there. And those little mini burgers they’re making.” 

“Sounds good. Though…” Johnny hesitated for the smallest moment, feeling a grin spread on his lips as he looked over at her mischievously. “It’d kinda be a pity if that gorgeous dress tore at the seams.” 

“Oh you!” she exclaimed, mouth open in a playfully scandalised expression as she slapped him against the chest. “Wow, always the charmer. Luckily, this dress is elastic enough, thank you very much.” 

Johnny was laughing, giving her an apologising shrug and feeling a good bit lighter at seeing the mirthful sparkle in her eyes as she shook her head at him, grinning. They’d always had a good chemistry like that, laughing with and teasing each other endlessly, and he was grateful to discover nothing had changed there even after several years. 

The evening continued with great company and conversation. Meeting Dennis was insightful but brief, and more of a ‘shaking hands’ event than an actual talk about their potential cooperation before he and Patrick retreated somewhere private for that purpose. Johnny simply enjoyed himself, not really regretting that he didn’t have to spend the evening talking business. 

What he definitely had not expected, nor any of the other guests as it seemed, was the sudden outbreak of a cacophony of noise, loud patter against the glass panels of the atrium, as the worst hail he’d seen in ages set in. It had the party guests stand by the outer windows and stare in wonder at the patio that filled with at least eight inches of hazelnut- to golfball-sized hailstones, and it was a bit of a miracle that the atrium roof remained undamaged. 

“Don’t worry everybody,” he heard Patrick shout loudly over the noise as he stood on one of the round tables to address his guests. “We’ve got enough guest rooms here and a hotel down the road that’ll have a few free rooms left. That is, once the hail lets up and you can make it there. If not, it’s going to get really cozy. Girls? My bed’s big enough for at least five. Trust me, I’ve tested it.” 

That statement was met with a lot of laughter, but Johnny couldn’t fully share the hilarity, suppressing a sigh. 

“Oh dear. You were supposed to get back tonight, right?” Trish asked, concern and sympathy in her eyes as she looked up at him. 

“Yeah. I guess I’ll better go call T.J.,” he said, just before he felt a pat on the back of his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, mate. They’ll have cleared the roads by tomorrow morning. We’ll drive back first we can,” Mick assured him and Johnny gave him a small, thankful smile before he excused himself.

There was a sinking, anxious feeling in Johnny’s stomach as he stepped out of the atrium and into a small study, his phone already in hand, but not yet bringing himself to call. The feeling soon paired with one of annoyance, even mild anger at what T.J. could say, because this all really wasn’t his fault, was it? Nobody could have predicted this. Maybe he was just being stupid and should keep an open mind instead, but despite that voice of reason in his mind, it took him quite a while, pondering how to start the call and what to say in a variety of possible replies.

Finally, after what must have been several minutes, he dialed T.J.’s number. It rang three times until the call was accepted. “Hey, Johnny. What’s up?” he asked, and it did sound like he was already expecting to hear something unpleasant.

Johnny took a breath and swallowed down the knot of irritation in his stomach. “Hi. Um… what’s the weather like in Manhattan? Any sleety rain or hail over there, too?”

“Um… no,” T.J. replied at first before Johnny could hear him walk around, possible to one of the windows. “Just a bit of drizzle.”

“Yeah, then wait ten minutes or so, because here everything’s covered in ice and hail,” Johnny said, this time allowing his annoyance to surface in his tone. After all, being annoyed at the weather was legitimate. “Which means… we can’t drive back tonight. There’s going to be no ice control until the morning.”

“Oh,” came the quiet reply.

“Yeah. I know. But we’re driving back tomorrow as soon as possible. I’ll definitely make it back home before the concert, so don’t worry, okay?” And please don’t blame me for this, he thought but didn’t say.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a soft, barely audible sigh, but then, “And you can’t fly because you didn’t take your suit.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t take my phone or anything else, and I don’t want to give Ella a scare, landing on the balcony butt naked,” Johnny concluded, laughing softly at his own joke but hearing no laugh coming from T.J., and yes, that did annoy him a little bit.

“Well, okay then. Nothing to be done about it, I suppose,” T.J. said instead. “We’re leaving here at five for the sound check. So make sure to get here before that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, that’s absolutely no problem! I’ll make it.”

“Okay. Then enjoy the rest of your night,” T.J. said, and it was hard to miss the disappointment in his undertone.

“Will do,” Johnny said, nevertheless good-naturedly. “You too. And give Ella a hug from me, okay?”

“Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Bye!”

The call was ended and Johnny put the phone back into his pocket, letting out a deep breath and rolling his eyes to himself. This could have gone a whole lot better, but the sad truth was, it could have gone worse too.

He was just about to turn back when he heard steps on the hallway, and a moment later he saw a familiar face in the doorway, sending a smile onto his lips instantly.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Johnny asked as Trish stepped closer, nodding.

“They’re about to serve dessert. You really mustn’t miss this. It’s a flambéed ice cream bomb,” she said, smiling sweetly and hooking her arm in Johnny’s.

“And they want me to light it?”

Trish shook her head and laughed, slapping his upper arm lightly with her free hand. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. I think they’re going to use a regular lighter.”

“Aww, damn. And there I thought my big moment had come,” he joked back, smiling as they continued towards the party.

That sinking feeling still sat in his chest, though, sad and regretful this time, and he wondered what the hell had gone wrong so much that T.J. and he couldn’t laugh together properly anymore.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always forget to say the things in the author notes I wanted. Some passages and scenes are 'dedicated' to Donald Drumpf, for providing the perfect inspiration for Patrick. Right now, Patrick is still young and probably attractive, but who knows, someday, he might grow into an ugly, orange man, too ;) 
> 
> Also, there is a very, very mild warning for something in this chapter. I'll put it in the notes at the end for spoiler reasons.
> 
> Hope you're having a good Christmas so far. If you're interested, saturnmeetsmercury and I posted a [Stucky Christmas fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8953897), too.

“Don’t you want to call him?” 

T.J. briefly looked over his shoulder to where Ella was packing her handbag, a thick scarf already around her neck and her coat slung over the kitchen barstool. His gaze went back to the phone in his hand. It was two minutes before five, and the taxi likely already waited for them downstairs. 

“No.” 

He heard a poorly suppressed sigh from Ella, whether from sympathy or exasperation he couldn’t tell. The clock switched to 4:59 as he touched the display to prevent it from going black. 

“You… you don’t think something… well?” 

“That something happened?” T.J. concluded her question. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he had entertained the possibility several times within the hour, but he outright refused to acknowledge the thought for longer than a fleeting moment. Because going there, letting his thoughts linger in that direction for longer than that… Even if it was something minor, if he allowed himself to worry about it, it would mean everything he had worked for over the past few weeks, everything _ Ella _ had worked for would go down the drain. It wasn’t like the other option - Johnny simply forgetting about it despite his message this morning, having found something more worthwhile to spend his time on - didn’t dampen his mood, didn’t take away from the joy this evening could have meant, but at least it didn’t completely destroy it. Or at least T.J. told himself so much, but he had to force himself to be angry rather than disappointed and hurt. Or worse: frightened that he could be wrong.

“No,” he replied at last just before the clock went to five p.m. “Alright, let’s go,” he said and grabbed his own coat on the way to the door. For a split-second before he opened it, there was the image in his mind of Johnny standing in front of it, just having gotten here, out of breath and apologetic. But the hallway was disappointingly empty when T.J. and Ella stepped out. 

“Maybe it’s because of all the sleet and hail,” Ella offered as they stepped into the elevator. “Could’ve taken a bit longer to clear the roads up there.”

T.J. just looked at her briefly and shrugged, not wanting to say out loud what he thought as an immediate response:  _ Then why doesn’t he call and tell me so?  _

“He’s got the address of the venue?” she asked, obviously trying to make light of the situation, remaining positive in it, but T.J. found it hard to share that sentiment. 

“Yeah.”

“So he’ll get there directly then?”

“What do I know?” he said bitterly just before the elevator stopped and its doors slid open. 

Ella just let out another sigh and followed him through the lobby and onto the street. The taxi was there already, as expected. They both got into the backseat, and T.J. gave the driver the address, watching through the window as the car accelerated onto the main street as far as the traffic permitted. The roads seemed clear in Manhattan, just wet and muddy from melted ice and rock salt. 

In his coat pocket, T.J. had his hand wrapped around his phone, but it remained silent. With every second that passed, a dull, heavy sense of anger spread in his stomach and chest, forming a knot in his throat. He ached for a drink, for something to numb the feeling and more so his thoughts that drifted in too many different directions from here. If Johnny had simply forgotten the time, again, because he enjoyed himself so much, then what did that mean for them, for T.J.? The only answer was worse than the anger, painful and frightening, and, not for the first time in recent weeks, it led him to a point he thought he had left behind so long ago, when he had been betrayed and abandoned by another person he had loved. 

T.J. took a deep breath and held it for a second or two, made himself release it slowly and steadily while he closed his eyes. The concert. Sound check. Stage lights. Another deep breath in and a slow one out. 

“Hey,” Ella said softly beside him, a hand reaching out for his lower arm. “Just call him and ask what’s up. You’ll work yourself up to no end if you don’t.” 

She was right, he knew that. But T.J. couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was Johnny’s responsibility to call and inform him if something had come up, not his. And then there was the fact that, should Johnny not pick up, it would make everything so much worse, would make him seriously consider that something horrible happened to Johnny. And what then? What if it really was nothing but T.J. was sick with worry, and the whole evening was ruined for everyone? For Ella, for the other musicians, for the owner of the club, the press, and all the guests who’d purchased tickets to see them play. 

But what if it  _ wasn’t _ nothing? What if Johnny had been in an accident and T.J. decided not to bother and selfishly go through with his concert instead? The thought made his breath hitch in his throat, his heart stumble in his chest, and a sense of panic gripped him so suddenly that he had no idea how to fend it off. 

Suddenly, his phone chimed in his pocket and he pulled it out hastily with shaky fingers. A text message. 

_ Sorry! I’m on my way.  _

And, just a few seconds later: 

_ I hope you get this. Phone reception keeps dying here. Been trying to call you. We’re stuck in heavy traffic. I’m so sorry.  _

T.J. released a few shaky breaths, a hand rubbing over his forehead as he steadied himself. At least the worst of his suspicions had not proven true. But his relief lasted only a few moments, making room for disappointment again. It obviously had not been important enough to Johnny to set off early or call him sooner. And he still wondered whether this wasn’t, in a way, payback for the race. 

“What’s he saying?” Ella wanted to know, and T.J. simply showed her the screen, not feeling steady enough to speak yet. 

“Oh crap,” she said and rubbed his upper arm in a consoling, encouraging gesture. “But at least he’s on his way.”

“Yeah,” T.J. got out at last, and, even though he’d have liked to let Johnny wait a little, made himself type out an ‘okay’ as reply. 

“Can’t he just fly?” Ella asked after a while. 

“No, he didn’t bring his suit which means he’d have nowhere to store his phone and keys, and he’d land here naked.” 

“Well, that would’ve been a sight,” Ella replied, a small giggle coming over her lips, but T.J. wasn’t in the mood to share the joke. 

He could ask where exactly Johnny was right now and how long it’d take him to get to the club, but he was done grovelling, done being dependent and hurt - though that wasn’t exactly true. Johnny would get there when he did, and it might even be before the concert started in two hours. And if not, he would not allow him to ruin this for him. 

~*~

After they were done with the sound check, which T.J. had spent focusing on his professional duties and ignoring the two more texts Johnny had sent him ( _ ‘Road blockage cuz of a fallen over truck’  _ and _ ‘I’m really so sorry. I’ll be there soon’ _ ), the first few patrons were let into the club, taking some of the reserved seats at the small round tables in front of the stage. Some of the press were there already, too, and soon T.J. spotted four familiar faces that at last sent a tentative smile to his lips: Nicky, Jared, Karen and Adil. 

T.J. went to greet them and introduced Ella who started chatting with Nicky and thanked her for the recommendation of a hairdresser where she had gone earlier to get her hair done in a 40s vintage do without having it straightened. It had turned out beautiful, classy and modern, with a yellow flower pin on one side of her neck roll that matched her elegant yellow dress. 

“Kyle’s still at work,” Jared said, “but he should be here shortly past seven. He says sorry he couldn’t make it sooner.” 

“That’s okay. He’s probably still going to be here sooner than my boyfriend,” T.J. replied, not able to keep a sense of bitterness from his tone. 

Both Jared and Adil raised their brows at him. 

“Oh? Where is he?” Adil asked, and T.J. made a waving motion with his hand. 

“Stuck in traffic somewhere. He’ll be here later.” 

“Traffic? It’s not  _ that _ bad tonight,” Jared said, looking confused, and T.J. hid his involuntary sigh behind a close-lipped smile and a shrug. 

“Well, he’s not here in Manhattan. He was at the Hamptons last night and couldn’t get home because of the weather. And now there was a truck accident somewhere on the road and it’s taking him longer to get here.” 

“The fuck was he doing at the Hamptons?” Jared asked to T.J.’s dismay. He’d have preferred not having to tell the story again. 

“Just some dinner party with a racing sponsor his friend Patrick arranged,” he said, trying to sound casual. 

“Patrick who?” Jared asked, but Adil’s eyes widened a bit, brows going up and lips forming a voiceless ‘O’. 

“Patrick Bryce, the guy we saw on the photos of the race,” he said, nudging Jared in the side, but Jared, apparently, could not make any connection. 

“You know him?” T.J. asked, now curious but apprehensive all the same. 

Adil let out a bit of a snort. “I guess everyone who’s got a business in Manhattan knows him more or less. He’s tried to stick his fingers into pretty much everything with daddy’s money. Succeeded at some, but drove a lot of his  _ start-ups _ into bankruptcy too. And a couple of years ago while I was still building my business, a company of his bought a building where I had just started setting up my third store and forced me out.  _ I  _ nearly went bankrupt over it. He’s a real douchebag. Involved in a lot of scandals, too. Like that porn platform that got shut down because--” 

But T.J. never learned the reason because, somewhere during his last few words, Adil must have realised that Jared gave him a rather stern look and elbowed him in the side, and he shut his mouth, shrugging softly. “He just puts his money in a lot of things. Maybe he’s not really involved in the process. Doesn’t strike me like the kind of dude that’s actually  _ working _ much,” he amended. 

T.J. was curious now. A great part of him wanted to know everything there was to know about Patrick, but another part, the one that kept him from asking now, was dreading what such a question might uncover. And to what end? If he had even more reason to dislike Patrick would he be able to convince Johnny to cut strings with him? He severely doubted it. 

“Hey, what’s all that business talk,” Karen said, who must have overheard the last bits of their conversation as she had come closer. She laid her hands on Jared and Adil’s backs from behind, slapping them lightly. “No more of that, okay? We’re here for T.J. and Ella, who I’m sure are going to be just amazing. You can complain about what a hard-working man you are another time,” she ended, gently teasing and giving Adil a second small pat on the back. 

“If that’s a jab at me finally being able to cut down on my hours after years of hard work then--” 

“No it’s not,” she interrupted him. “You probably _ are _ the hardest working of us all, but now it’s the weekend, so shut up.” 

Adil rolled his eyes, but a small grin formed around his lips. 

“Why don’t you take your seats and I’ll send the waiter your way?” Ella said, motioning towards three of the small tables right in front of the stage that were reserved for their personal guests. 

“First round’s on the house,” T.J. added to everyone’s approval, before he checked the time on his phone. They should get backstage in a few minutes anyway. 

The doors of the club opened again, a gust of cool air flowing inside, and T.J. hoped to see Johnny stepping in. But then his heart sank when the only familiar faces he spotted were Sue and Reed, and it ached even more to see how all those people, friends who weren’t nearly as close to him as his boyfriend should be, had made it in time. There was no use dwelling on that thought for too long, though. 

After having greeted the couple as well and leading them to their seats, T.J. and Ella made their way backstage, waiting for their announcement and going over the setlist once more. And then, barely fifteen minutes later when they stepped through the curtain onto the small stage, T.J. only briefly allowed himself to scan the audience, finding that Kyle had arrived unexpectedly early but Johnny was still nowhere in sight. 

He simply had to ignore it, ignore the dull clenching pain in his chest and play. 

~*~

When they had brought Ella to the station and gotten home again alone early that Sunday evening, it was like everything positive and light T.J. had felt that day dropped from him, left at the door when he closed it behind him and locked it for the night. Despite his disappointment and hurt of Johnny showing up at the club only well into the second half of their concert, they had actually managed to spend a nice day together, starting it with an opulent brunch, showing Ella some of the lesser known sights in Manhattan and ending the afternoon with a walk through central park, before the sun that had shone brightly all day disappeared above the skyline. T.J. had been able to breathe, to smile, if tentatively, but now that Ella was gone it felt like it had all been for show, and that deep, dull ache in the pit of his stomach was back where he had left it the evening before. 

Johnny, as always, seemed to take no notice of it, lounging in front of the TV with his phone in hand while T.J. decided to strip the guest bed and put new sheets on it even if the cleaner could have done it when she came on Tuesday. 

After that, they had Chinese in front of the TV, and T.J. faked a few yawns for having an excuse at being quiet, a part of him wondering how long he could keep up the charade and furious that Johnny refused to see through it. Of course, he had apologised profusely after the concert, and T.J. wanted to believe him that he really hadn’t meant to come late, that it hadn’t been his intention to disappoint and hurt him. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that had settled somewhere in the back of his mind as a constant companion that Johnny simply didn’t  _ care _ . Or not enough, as it seemed. 

It was still early, only shortly past ten, when T.J. excused himself for being tired and went to bed, and about twenty minutes later he thought he might, just  _ might _ even fall asleep soon and stop thinking. If only Johnny hadn’t come into the bedroom then. 

“Hey, already asleep?” he spoke softly as he approached the bed, leaving all his clothes except his underpants on the armchair. 

T.J. let out a long breath and blinked a few times to adjust to the dim lights. “No, not yet.” 

Johnny smiled at him and flopped down on the bed, making the mattress bounce a few times under the suddenly added weight. “Good.” 

T.J. knew that tone and the look on Johnny’s face all too well, knew precisely what was on his mind, and without any warning or reason it suddenly made him feel sick, made breathing feel hard with a dark, dull weight around his chest. He forced himself to take a deep breath nevertheless and rolled onto his back, looking the other way. 

But Johnny’s hand drifted to his shoulder, fingertips wandering along his collarbone and up his jaw before he leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek, oblivious to or deliberately ignoring his body language. 

T.J. turned his head and nearly caught Johnny’s lips with his, and for a split-second it was like muscle memory took control, wanted him to melt into the contact, but his mind made him press his head into the pillow instead. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood.” 

Johnny lifted his head, a small furrow on his brow but a tiny grin around his lips still. “Aww, really?” he asked and let his hand rest on T.J.’s chest, thumb caressing him through the fabric of his t-shirt. “Maybe I have to try harder to get you into the mood then,” he said and added another gentle kiss to the corner of T.J.’s mouth. 

“Johnny, seriously, I’m not… I just want to sleep.” T.J. said, a little exasperated this time, a little desperate too, because that dull ache in him turned into a clenching tightness that he couldn’t shake. 

But Johnny still looked down at him with that slightly crooked smile around his lips, his hand drifting a little lower down to the edge of the cover right above T.J.’s belly. “And you’ll sleep even better after an orgasm. You know that, it’s science!” he said, light-hearted and optimistic and jesting, and, adding to everything else, it made T.J. feel guilty for a second. He was unable to say anything as he lay there, feeling Johnny slide closer to him. 

“Come on. I just want to make it up to you.” His voice turned lower, the smile fading before he added more kisses, soft and slow along the line of T.J.’s jaw. Johnny’s hand slid underneath the covers and his knee between T.J.’s, half on top of him, and that was when T.J. suddenly snapped. 

He didn’t know how, didn’t see it coming and would not be able to fully explain it even later, but somehow he shoved Johnny from him with much more force than he’d planned to use. It was an unlucky set of circumstances, Johnny having shifted his weight in that moment, that sent him rolling down the other side of the bed and land on the floor. 

“Jesus Christ, T.J., what the fuck?” 

But T.J. had to take two, three deep breaths as he pushed himself up to sit and then scramble out of the bed on the other side. “I said no, God damn it. How difficult is that to understand?” he asked, feeling shaky, his chest heaving as the words stumbled from his lips. 

“God… Jesus, I just wanted… I didn’t.” Johnny was fumbling for words, obviously shocked himself as he got back up to his feet.

“Wanted what? Just have your way with me whether I felt like it or not?” T.J. shot back, his breathing coming a little more evenly now, but the shaking with nerves and anger not subsided. 

“Oh my God, no. What the hell, T.J.? I’d never--” There was a pained look on Johnny’s face, brow scrunched up and eyes wide, and had T.J. not still felt so angry he’d have allowed himself to feel bad for it. 

“I just thought you’d get there,” Johnny explained, a tone of despair in his voice. “I just wanted you to relax and make you feel good!”

“You wanted to make _ you _ feel good, there’s a difference!” 

“That’s not true!” Johnny replied, his voice rising now even more, but not with the harsh kind of anger T.J. felt at the moment. “I mean… okay, yeah. I wanted to make  _ us _ feel good. But I’d never have done something you really didn’t want! God!”

T.J. felt a shaky, sarcastic laugh come over his lips. “Right. Which you’ve just demonstrated so convincingly.” 

“Just because I didn’t know you were this serious about it! It’s been like this, I dunno, countless times before. And either you rolled with it or... “ He made a helpless waving motion with one arm, gaze briefly going downwards in contemplation. He wasn’t wrong, either, T.J. knew. It never had been any kind of issue before and at most elicited an eyeroll and exasperated sigh from him. But they had not been at the same point then as they were now. 

“And unless you faked your enthusiasm for it every time it actually worked. So how was I supposed to know this time was different?” 

“How about by opening your eyes and not thinking about what you want for fucking once?” T.J. shouted now, angry, still so angry that Johnny was so oblivious, so inflexible in this. “You think sex is the answer to everything? Just have a nice long fuck and everything’s okay?”

“Well then what is the fucking answer? Tell me, T.J., because I really don’t know!” Johnny shouted back. “What the fuck am I supposed to  _ do _ ? I’m out of my depth here. You won’t talk to me, and when I try you shut the whole thing down or start drinking. So how the  _ hell _ am I supposed to get through to you??”

“How about by not  _ yelling _ at me every time you try so hard to talk to me?” T.J. replied, feeling that he started to lose the energy for this fight. He wanted to sit down, wanted to… yes, he wanted to have a drink now more than ever, and to be left alone, to not feel like this. Not like everything was his fault after all. Not helpless and powerless in finding a way to fix this. Not like things could not be fixed. It made his chest clench again, and he had to lean forward, blindly grasping for the surface of the bed for balance as he pressed his eyes shut. 

Johnny was quiet, and it might as well have been for the reason of understanding what T.J. had just said, of maybe admitting his mistake, maybe, just maybe calming down and wanting to come to an understanding. The only problem was that this wasn’t the case. 

“It’s kinda rich of you to tell me I’m only thinking of me, by the way,” he said, and his voice had fallen, tone bitter rather than desperate as it just had been, and that, worse than the shouting, seemed to suck all air out of T.J.’s lungs, made his eyes burn with unshed tears. 

It took a few moments of him sitting there, his eyes firmly shut and unknowing what Johnny was doing then, until he realised that the sound that had barely registered with him was his phone ringing. And it took another two rings until he found the energy to open his eyes again and turn his head to look at it on the nightstand. 

It was Doug. 

He hadn’t thought he could have felt any worse than just now, but an ice-cold fear gripped him, took another few seconds from him in which he couldn’t move before, finally and with shaky hands, he picked it up and connected the call. 

“Doug? What is it?” 

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line before his brother replied, “It’s grandma. She fell down in the bathroom. They’re taking her to the hospital right now.” 

“Oh God,” was all T.J. could say, voice shaky, air unable to enter his lungs, or at least it felt like it. 

“Look, I don’t know how bad it is. She was unconscious, but she’s probably going to be okay. You know her,” Douglas tried, but it still couldn’t stop T.J.’s heart from beating rapidly in his chest. “But if you want to get here I guess that wouldn’t be a bad idea.” In case she died and this was his only chance to say goodbye, T.J. couldn’t help concluding his brother’s words in his mind. 

“Yeah. I… yeah. I’ll come.”

“You can fly down in the morning, or if you want you can take a night train. Anne already checked. Earliest flight is at 8 a.m., and the earliest train leaves at 3 a.m. from Penn Station. Look. I really don’t want to alarm you or anything, so it’s up to you, but…”

“I’ll take the train,” T.J. said without pondering the options for too long. “Keep me updated, okay?” 

“Of course. And we’ll arrange for someone to pick you up. Gotta go now.” 

“Okay. Bye.” 

When T.J. hung up, all he could do was look down at the phone in his hands for a few moments longer, unable to move just yet. 

Johnny must have moved around the bed already, he wasn’t sure, but he was standing in front of him now, coming closer, and T.J. could see a hand move towards his shoulder from his lowered gaze, but it sunk to Johnny’s side again the next second. 

“What is it? What happened?” 

“My grandma,” T.J. replied, voice thick. “Fell down in the bathroom.” 

“Shit,” Johnny breathed out, and finally he did sit down next to T.J., a hand coming up to his back in a consoling caress. It made T.J. flinch, and he got up from the bed to get his suitcase from the dresser. 

“You… want me to come with you?” Johnny’s voice was gentle, as if he’d forgotten everything they’d said just moments ago. For a split-second T.J. felt grateful, ached for his boyfriend’s support, but that didn’t make everything else go away, didn’t stop making him feel so horribly misunderstood and disregarded… and like Johnny only did this now out of obligation. 

“No, it’s fine,” he replied curtly as he threw a few items of clothing into the case.

“Want me to drive you to the station then?” 

“No, don’t bother,” T.J. said and went towards the bathroom to collect his toiletries. All he heard was a sigh from Johnny and then, just moments later, the bedroom door being opened and shut as Johnny went back downstairs into the living room.

To make coffee for him, T.J. found out a bit later, and it would have made him feel bad for being so dismissive, but the fact was that he had no energy left other than forcing himself to keep it together for his grandmother. He nearly failed at it, too, especially under Johnny’s watchful, concerned gaze and his caring gestures. It only let up when, finally and much too early than was prudent for catching his train, he closed the apartment door behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for something in the direction of dub-con. It's not really dub-con as nothing actually happens, but if you are very sensitive to the subject this might make you feel uneasy. What happens here is that the lines of consent are slightly crossed, but without any ill intention and more due to a misunderstanding/misinterpretation. If you're unsure please contact me on [tumblr](http://leandraholmes.tumblr.com/ask)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you had a good night and celebrated the occasion in a way you enjoyed most. 2016 hasn't been the best of years for many of us, but a new one has started. May it be a better one. 
> 
> I also wanted to apologise for some late replies or some that I forgot all together. The past few weeks were very busy and a bit stressful for me. But be assured that each and every comment you post is very much appreciated! Thank you! <3 
> 
> Lastly, a note about the content of this chapter at the end.

T.J. hadn’t slept at all, the three and a half hour train ride spent watching his phone for updates and worrying. For people his grandmother’s age, something as trivial as falling from their bed or slipping in the bathroom could often mean the end, T.J. knew that. The injuries themselves didn’t have to be too severe, but the follow-up complications that occurred - infections at hospital, the stress of anaesthesia and a great many other things - were what turned a simple broken hip into a death sentence. And no matter whether she’d get the best doctors and best nurses, nobody could guarantee that this wouldn’t be the case. 

At the station, having arrived ten minutes early, he just grabbed another cup of coffee on the run, feeling too queasy to order something to eat as well, before the Secret Service agent found and collected him to drive him to hospital. Once there, he learned that his grandma had just come out of surgery. The bone in her left upper arm had been broken through the fall, a complicated fracture that had needed setting, and, of course, his mom had insisted they’d do it right away, not letting his grandma remain conscious too long with the agonising pain of an unset fracture - or worse: setting it while she  _ was _ conscious. 

The other injuries she had obtained were a bruise on her chin and temple where she had bumped against the sink, and a concussion as the result, but the CAT scan had revealed nothing worrisome in that area. Yet. 

The doctor, however, was carefully optimistic when he spoke to all of them after surgery, and his affirmation that her vitals were very good for a woman her age and the injuries not as severe as they had looked superficially finally made T.J. exhale with relief and catch his breath. 

When Anne brought him and Douglas another coffee and a muffin from the cafeteria, he even accepted and ate, though the strain and worries of the past night, the previous evening included, weakened his appetite and made him unable to eat more than half of it. 

After the family’s first visit in the morning they let his grandma rest again for a few more hours, and his mom was called back to the White House. Douglas and Anne stayed and hung around the waiting room for a while until, in the late afternoon, his grandma finally seemed to feel better again. 

All three of them had sat with her for a while, helping her get careful sips of water and watching her closely, should she start to feel sick from the anaesthesia or the effects of the concussion, but so far she seemed to be doing just fine. Seeing her, her face bruised and blotchy, a bandaid hiding the stitched-up cut on her temple, had been a bit of a shock, though, and for the first time T.J. could remember, Margaret Barrish looked truly old to him, frail and sickly and not nearly as full of life as he had always known her to be. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” she said with mild annoyance some time later. Doug and Anne had gone back downstairs to the cafeteria to get something to eat. 

“Like what?” T.J. asked and put the magazine down that he’d been half-heartedly reading. He pushed the chair a little closer to the edge of the bed. 

“Like I’m already dead. I’m not. You’ve just never seen me without makeup,” she said a little huffily, and yes, that probably was a good sign. 

T.J. finally found a small smile on his lips. “You’re gonna need a lot more of it to cover up that bruise,” he said, pointing to his own chin roughly at the area where hers was blue and black. 

“Look me up some of those Kardashian or Jenner makeup tutorials on youtube and try your best,” she said, and T.J. could only smile again. He’d really missed her self-irony and dry sense of humour. 

“Not sure the hospital store sells any camouflage makeup and contouring kits, but I can try,” he joked back, glad to see the smile on her face widen. 

Then she winced, though, and pressed her eyes shut, one hand going to her forehead. “Better get the nurse to give me one of those drips where I can up the morphine dosage myself.” 

“That bad?” he asked, concerned. He got up from his chair and carefully sat down on her side, gently and softly letting a hand run over the top of her head. 

She shrugged in a minuscule movement. “Guess I deserve that for going to the bathroom on socks without slippers.”

“No, you definitely don’t deserve that,” he said gently and pulled his legs onto the bed, careful to leave his feet dangle over the edge. He wanted to put an arm around her but was worried to hurt her if he made her move at all, particularly her arm that was in a heavy cast, lying on an armrest attached to the other side of her bed. Instead, he put his arm up over the backrest well above her head and reached for her healthy hand with his other to grasp and caress it comfortingly. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “Before I blacked out I honestly thought this was it, and that I hadn’t seen you again since September.” 

“Aw, grandma, I’m so sorry,” he said and brushed a small kiss to her forehead. “I should have come down here for Thanksgiving.” 

She shook her head softly. “Nonsense. You have your life in New York now, and I’m sure Johnny’s sister likes having him around on the holidays, too. You’ll be here again on Christmas.” 

For a split-second, the echo of the worry he had felt made him imagine what it would have been like, spending Christmas with his family less than two weeks after she would have-- He took a deep breath and forced the thought back, reminding himself that she was fine and  _ would _ definitely be there over the holidays. 

“Why didn’t Johnny come with you anyway? Busy with something?” 

T.J. contemplated telling her the truth, but he opted for the more convenient answer in the end. “Yeah.”

“Is he going to do more racing in the future?” she wanted to know, and again, T.J. had to feign a casual reply. 

“He might. He’s looking into a few things at the moment.” 

“You know, I had a brief fling with a race care driver while I was still working at Vegas. That was before your grandpa. Dashing man. French.” 

“Really?” T.J. asked looking down at her in surprise. “You never told me. Was he famous?” 

She shrugged again. “I don’t remember. I think he drove in the early seasons of Formula One later on, but I didn’t exactly follow his career. It was just a brief liaison between us. But that man certainly knew how to kiss. Probably the best I’d ever had.” 

“Huh. And there I thought the French being better at French  _ kissing _ was a stereotype,” T.J. replied with a smirk. 

“It probably is. I didn’t kiss enough Frenchmen to actually make an educated observation.”

“I kissed one, and he wasn’t that great a kisser,” T.J. said, vaguely remembering a night of intoxicated sex, several years ago. 

“See?” She let out a slow sigh before she continued, “The best overall lover I had, well, that was still your grandfather. No one after him that could ever compare.” 

It made T.J. smile but at the same time ache for her a little that she wasn’t granted more time with him. It suddenly made his throat go tight, the thought that there were people so close to him who had to go through the heartache of loving someone and losing them, in whichever shape or form. And it made him wonder, involuntarily, whether that would have to be his fate as well. 

In hindsight - and there had been long moments in which he had had time to contemplate everything on the long train ride, often barely able to suppress his tears anymore in the presence of other travellers - he probably had overreacted a lot. Johnny had just behaved as he had been used to, as had been normal so often between them and never even for a second had seemed like something problematic or like Johnny was going against his will. But T.J. had made a right mess of it, and as the anger had faded, the guilt had set in again, guilt and the doubt that, despite his feeling disappointed and left alone so often in recent weeks, it may be his own fault after all. That something was wrong with him, something that made him, unknowingly and unwillingly, drive everyone away. 

The tears nearly came again then, with such sudden force that T.J. was barely able to contain them. He got up from the bed quickly to hide his face from his grandmother’s view and get a glass of water, but she must have sensed that something was awry anyway. 

“T.J.? Are you alright? What’s the matter, sweetie?”

He took a deep breath and another large sip of water, his back still turned towards her as he forced the moisture in his eyes to subside. And God, it was so exhausting, so straining to keep it together like that. “It’s… nothing. I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me, grandma.” 

“I wouldn’t be your grandmother if I didn’t worry about you, you know that,” she said in a gently admonishing but affectionate tone, and that made it so much harder, made his shoulders suddenly shake with a quiet sob he couldn’t contain any longer. 

“Gosh, T.J., what is it? Come here, will you? I can’t get up myself.” 

He didn’t want her to worry about him, not in her current condition, but he also ached for some comfort so much, ached for someone to just hold him in their arms - ached for Johnny who should be his first source for consolation but was the reason he needed it in the first place. 

Finally, he did turn around and barely looked into her concerned, sympathetic face as he laid back down on the bed, head nestling carefully against her unhurt shoulder as she wrapped her arm around him. 

“My sweet darling, what is it?” she asked again, softly rubbing his upper arm, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak, nor could he stop the tears from falling, no energy left for that effort. 

“Is it… “ she started tentatively after a while. “It’s Johnny, isn’t it?” 

It only made him cry harder, though he wasn’t surprised she had drawn the conclusion. She had always been insightful like that.

“Oh T.J., don’t keep everything to yourself again, please. Whatever it is just talk to me.” 

“I don’t even know where to start,” he said, overwhelmed by the rollercoaster of emotions he had been through over the past weeks, by all the events, some of them so minor and insignificant that he had no idea how to put them into order and how to explain why they made him feel so low. 

“Whenever you feel like, sweetheart. And it doesn’t have to be today. You’re staying another day or two?” 

“I wanted to, yeah,” he said softly, sniffling and rubbing over his teary eyes with one hand, not wanting to cry all over her hospital gown. 

“But promise me this, okay?” she started again, and there was a sudden urgency in her tone that made him look up and into her eyes, finding the smallest glistening of moisture there, too. “You will talk to me this time and not swallow everything down again. And you won’t slip! You’re better than this. You’re stronger. You promise me that, T.J., okay?” 

T.J. looked at her for a long moment, and there was a sense of embarrassment somewhere deep in his gut that this even needed saying, that he had actually needed hearing it. “I promise,” he said at last, and it was a little easier believing it after that. 

~*~

Even if he had found himself able to talk to her that afternoon, he couldn’t. Douglas and Anne came back a short while later, and they had all left their grandma to get some rest half an hour after that. T.J. had slept at the White House, and, after not having answered his call, had at least texted with Johnny for a while, updating him on his grandma’s condition. Johnny had been concerned about her and, from the sound of it, about T.J. as well, asking him how he was doing and whether he needed anything, but that hardly eliminated the fear that their relationship was hanging by a thread, ready to rip the next time one of the two ends pulled too hard in their direction. 

It had probably been the result of many nights spent with little to no sleep (and the two glasses of Scotch he had allowed himself that night) when, to his surprise, T.J. actually fell asleep just about eleven and slept all the way through until six-thirty in the morning. 

He had breakfast with his mom and dad, carefully hiding his personal troubles from them and glad for once that his mother still wasn’t the most perceptive when it came to him, her mind full of other troubles of a much grander nature such as the relationship with Russia or the latest strategies in what only slowly stopped becoming a futile attempt to defeat the Islamic State. 

Afterwards, they all went back to the hospital, and yesterday’s schedule was repeated with the president back at her office, Doug with her this time, and T.J. alone with his grandma around lunch time. At long last, they finally had the time to talk, and T.J. sat down in the chair this time to let the distance give him some focus and recollect the events of significance. It was hard and draining, and he had to detach himself from the emotional turmoil everything he told her caused. He found it easier when looking out of the window, over the houses and taller buildings of Washington D.C., than looking into his grandmother’s sympathetic face. 

“I just don’t know what to do… Where this all is going,” he ended then after what had felt like ages of talking but actually hadn’t even been that long, and there was silence on her end for a while, which nearly made him abandon all hope that she could give him a solution. 

But then he heard her inhale deeply, and finally she spoke. “Well, it looks like this is not the easiest situation you’re in right now,” she acknowledged, and it made a lump form in T.J.’s throat again. “But,” she continued then, putting emphasis on the word, “it’s also a very recent problem, if you haven’t left anything else out that happened before… when did it start? Late October?” 

T.J. shook his head as he looked back at her, finding a small encouraging smile on her lips. “No. Before that, everything was fine.” 

She paused again, and her brow furrowed slightly as she seemed to search for the right words. “You know, I’m probably not the best person to give relationship advice. The longest one I’ve ever been in was really difficult. It was, between good phases, often a struggle, filled with so, so much drama that I often asked myself why I put up with it.” 

“Because you loved him,” T.J. answered her unspoken prompt, and she nodded once. 

“Because I loved him. And he loved me. I don’t know if I’d have made the same decisions ten years later. Maybe I wouldn’t have, for your mother’s sake. But there was a lot I was willing to endure to make it work, for the sake of those moments, weeks and sometimes months when we didn’t fight, didn’t end up in bad places and situations, when he didn’t spend all our hard-earned money on drugs and booze. Now, I’m not saying you’re supposed to endure a lot of bullshit in a relationship just because there are good aspects sometimes, but with you and Johnny it’s the other way around, isn’t it? You’ve had two really great years together. You adore and support each other. Johnny definitely loves you very deeply and has done a lot for you in the past. And now you’re in a crisis, one that has only lasted for what? Six weeks now? I don’t think six bad weeks - and from what you told me they weren’t  _ all _ bad either - out of two years is enough to let a solid relationship fail. Not necessarily.” 

T.J. wanted to believe her, but he had vainly trusted in the integrity of a relationship before and been let down horribly. 

“Johnny isn’t Sean,” his grandma said, and he wasn’t even surprised she had guessed his thoughts in this context. “He’s not a coward who puts his own reputation before you, he’s proven that already. And he strikes me as someone who definitely doesn’t give up easily, least of all without a fight. I mean, of course, I can’t read his thoughts and know what he’d do, but I really can’t see him break up with you over a crisis that, by the way, seems to be build on a lot of misunderstandings and bad timing. That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That the only way for this to end is him leaving you?” 

T.J. nodded. His gaze was trained on the grey-tiled floor, arms resting on his knees, and he had to take two deep, slow breaths to get himself to speak again. “It’s not just that, though. It’s… it’s like he’s this whole different person sometimes. And I just… I can’t  _ stand _ that person. Is that a horrible thing of me to say?” 

“No it’s not. I love your mother dearly, but sometimes I can’t stand her either,” she replied, chuckling softly to lighten the mood, but T.J. could only give her a thin smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes. 

“T.J., what I know after so many years of meeting and spending my time with countless different people is that you never fully know a person. You can’t, it’s just not possible to know them one hundred percent without living in their heads. And another thing I know is that we rarely even fully know ourselves. I’m not the same woman I was at twenty or forty, either. Our life is a constant process of self-discovery and reinvention. If all goes well, it should move us forward, but it doesn’t always. And the past can be a treacherous friend. Sometimes I look back at the times before your mother was born and I briefly think how I’d love to be a Vegas show girl again, how, if I could, I’d turn back time and do it all again. But if I could, if I still had the physical fitness for it, too,” she chuckled again, “I don’t even know if I’d enjoy it as much as I did back then. Because I’m not the same person anymore.” 

T.J. regarded her for a moment, trying to make sense of what she was saying and how it applied to Johnny, and he still couldn’t grasp the whole picture. “So what are you saying? That all this racing stuff is just a phase and he’s going to abandon it again eventually?” 

His grandma shrugged. “He might, he might not. But the racing itself isn’t the issue, is it? What I’m saying is that usually, when we make a development that moves us forward, we like the person we’ve become. And it really looks like Johnny has liked the person  _ he _ became and who he is with you. I don’t think he’s going to throw that all away and that the Johnny you knew for over two years, who’s got a great circle of friends, who’s got a calling that is bigger than some small career as race car driver, that this Johnny is gone now just because some of his macho friends have entered his life again and take him back into his mid-twenties. There are people who make one step forward and two back, but I really, honestly doubt that applies to him.” 

It was a lot to process, and a lot of it made a great deal of sense, but it wasn’t the answer to everything, not the solution to how he had felt in recent weeks. But it was a start. There was just still so much that he didn’t know how to handle, how to act around Johnny and what to do to get both of them back on track, but maybe he really had to face the inevitable and, in a good moment and without either of them being upset over something, talk things out. But what if that didn’t go as he’d like to picture it? What if it brought things to the surface he didn’t know how to deal with, that made him feel small again and misunderstood? 

He didn’t talk about it anymore, didn’t want to exert his grandmother any further when she could do with some rest, but he did lie down again next to her, and they decided to watch some TV, if only for a few minutes since it might not be helpful to her already existing headache. 

T.J. was switching through the channels when a special news feature made him stop. There were images of an old building, some of it in flames, other parts - mainly the windows and bits of the facade - blown out by what must have been a detonation. The caption read “Cleveland Public Library under attack”, and a moment later a reporter at the site came into view, answering the anchorman’s questions. 

_ ‘At this point, the authorities are unclear about how the bomb could have been planted. There were extensive security measures, particularly because of the presence of Congresswoman Harvers and her family to open the exhibit that should be the core element of the libraries contribution to Black History Month.’ _

_ ‘Can you tell us whether there is any evidence that points towards a hate crime?’ _

_ ‘No, at present there is no such evidence, nor any claim of responsibility by any politically motivated groups. What we do know at the moment is that such an attack must have been meticulously planned, and it is therefore unlikely that we’re dealing with a single individual. Of course, Cleveland’s police chief has already announced a thorough investigation, but at this early stage nothing else can be said as for the culprits behind this horrific attack.’ _

“Dear God,” his grandma sighed, eyes and mouth wide as she looked at the TV, and T.J., too, was shocked at what he saw and heard. 

_ ‘Can you already give us a number on the casualties?’ _

_ ‘So far, there are no concrete numbers, but estimates on dead  _ or _ injured victims range in the dozens. As you can see behind me, there are many ambulances and firetrucks, and the rescue works are currently still ongoing. I think we will be able to say more once all fire has been extinguished and the rescue workers have made it through to the affected parts of the building.’ _

_ ‘There was a similar detonation in a hospital in Chicago just last week. Can you already say whether the events are linked, and have the Fantastic Four been called to the rescue this time, too?’ _

_ ‘Well, the situation in Chicago was quite different. People were trapped inside the building and the usual rescue workers could not gain access to it. Here, the structural damage to the building is less limiting, and there seems to be no need for external help. Whether the events are linked would be a wild guess at this point. But we can already say that the Chicago detonation was much smaller than this one, and it happened in a part of the hospital where it couldn’t cause as many casualties as here. In fact, there were no fatalities in Chicago. If both attacks are linked, then it will be even harder to figure out the motivation behind them. But at this point, it is all guesswork.’ _

_ ‘Thank you, Sidney, _ ’ said the anchor, and the transmission was ended. 

“My God, what has this world become?” 

T.J. let out a soft sigh. “The world has always been shit. It’s just the technology that’s become better.” 

“Aren’t you the cynic,” she said but grasped his hand to squeeze it gently. “I guess I can’t hope for a visit by your mother or Dougie anytime today. Will you stay for a while?” 

T.J. switched the channel until he found some kind of sitcom and settled back against the pillow more comfortably. “I will.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another terrorist attack. Without wanting to spoil anything for you, I'm going to say it may not be what you think it is. Things will be revealed at a later point in the story.


	13. Chapter 13

On Wednesday, T.J. took a train back home again, having caught an earlier one that he had initially intended. The journey by train was actually much more convenient than by plane - with no hour long check-ins and walking what felt like miles through huge terminals that, even though the flight itself was much shorter, resulted in a much longer total travel time. And, T.J. had discovered, there was something soothing to watching towns and cities pass by through the window, or the stretches of landscapes in between.

He had done a lot of thinking ever since the conversation with his grandma, and in a way he already felt a little lighter. Just a tiny bit more optimistic and less frightened, but until everything was well again, there was still a long road ahead. 

He had also taken his grandma’s rather desperate plea to heart that he mustn’t let himself slip into addiction again, come what may. He wasn’t ready to forego alcohol completely, but he told himself one drink should be enough from now on. Just one, if he felt stressed or miserable, and no more than that. And so it was water and coffee that he ordered when the waitress on the train’s business class section came, not the champagne or wine he was offered. And he was alright. 

Sometime after Philadelphia, he must have dozed off. When he woke up again, they were only a few miles from New York City and he wondered whether he should still call or text Johnny that he was coming earlier. Then again, it was a little short notice to be picked up sooner, and he could simply take a cab. He felt a little more comfortable about the thought of seeing Johnny again in their own home instead of out in public, anyway. 

He spent the last few minutes on the train reading some news on his phone. Yesterday’s attack in Cleveland had resulted in thirteen deaths and several injured, and the authorities were still groping in the dark as for a possible connection to the Chicago detonation or a potential culprit behind both. There were rumours surfacing now about an Islamist origin, as always, with the internet going nuts over all their theories and educated opinions. T.J. let out a sigh and put his phone back into his pocket. 

It was long dark already when he stepped out of the taxi in front of their building a while later, and he was determined to let any aggravation he still felt behind, wanting to make the best of it, to keep an open mind and give Johnny a chance to prove that, yes, they could sit down together and talk things through like adults. 

When he put the key in the door to their apartment, however, he could already hear voices from inside, loud laughter that obviously drowned out the sounds of the door opening. T.J. stopped dead in the hallway. 

“-- biggest womaniser you’ve ever seen. He was chasing everything with a skirt,” Mick was saying loudly, and someone else - Patrick? - laughed. 

“Hide your wives, daughters and grandma’s. Johnny Storm’s in town?” He cackled while Mick practically howled with laughter. 

“Now wait a minute. Grandmas? Not so much.” 

“MILFs then,” Patrick amended, and Mick laughed again, obviously finding this all very funny. 

“And now he’s taking it up the arse.” The laughter turned so loud that T.J. was sure the tenants two floors down would still be able to hear it. 

“Yeah well, again, no. It’s usually not me who’s taking it up the  _ arse _ , but--” 

What he wanted to add, T.J. never got to hear. He had let the door fall shut behind him noisily, and a second later he saw Johnny peek into the hallway from the kitchen, a look of mixed surprise and shock on his face. 

“T.J.? You’re here already?”

Putting his suitcase down next to the coat hook and hanging his jacket, T.J. had to force himself to mentally count to three while taking a deep breath. But that hardly helped to keep the sizzling anger in the pit of his stomach subdued. 

Mick, too, leaned sidewards from the barstool and nearly fell down in the process, laughing loudly again. It wasn’t hard to guess that he was at least slightly drunk. “Hey, T.J., man, good to see you. Come join us for a drink!”

“No thanks,” he just replied coldly as he came closer, now able to see all three of them, Patrick sitting on the other side of the kitchen island, several empty cans of beer on the countertop and a shot glass in front of Mick. 

Johnny was standing, and he put one hand in the back pocket of his jeans, looking at T.J. with a smile that didn’t fully hide the look of guilt in his eyes. “We were just… catching up. I thought you’d arrive at eight-thirty?” 

“Caught an earlier train,” T.J. said, not looking Patrick or Mick in the eyes and still fighting hard to keep his composure instead of losing his face in their presence. He took a bottle of water from the fridge, deliberately tearing his gaze from the vodka on the kitchen island while he was contemplating how to best kick them out. 

“Great. Now Johnny doesn’t need to drive anymore,” Patrick started before he got up from his barstool and went to the fridge as well, opening it casually as if he lived here. “Got any champagne? Or wine at least? Come on guys, let’s drink. And put that away, water’s for pussies.” He had the audacity to snatch the bottle from T.J.’s hand just as he was about to take another sip, and for a split-second T.J. indulged in the fantasy of punching him in the face. 

“Hey, that’s--” Johnny started in what sounded like a mildly admonishing tone, but T.J. hardly took notice. 

“Get out,” he said, voice low and quiet but humming with anger. 

“What?” Patrick asked incredulously, a grin on his face still that only slowly faltered. 

“Aww, T.J., mate, don’t be like that,” Mick said and got up from his seat as well, starting in T.J.’s direction. “Patrick’s just a bit over-excited.”

“Get the fuck out, both of you,” T.J. said again, still calm. On the outside at least. 

He only saw Mick look over at Johnny with raised brows, but he couldn’t bear to look Johnny in the eyes. When he heard a sarcastic snort from Patrick he snapped completely. “Get out. Get out. Get out! GET OUT!!!” 

And finally they seemed to get the picture. Collecting their things quickly, they made their way through the hall, Johnny following them and seeing them off with whispered apologies. Something about T.J.’s grandma and being stressed. It was all T.J. caught while pressing his eyes shut and taking deep, slow breaths as he pushed his hands against the edge of the kitchen island. 

When the door closed again, it took hardly two seconds until Johnny made it back, sounding aggravated and disbelieving. “What the fuck, T.J.? What the fuck was that?” 

He let out a bitter chuckle, still not looking at his boyfriend. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I didn’t know you’d come home early! If you’d told me I’d made sure you wouldn’t have met them. Which is completely fucked up and ridiculous in the first place! And now you completely embarrassed me in front of my friends!!”

Another disbelieving huff of breath was all that left him then, and he had to swallow against the lump in his throat. “Yeah. And god forbid anyone threatens your alpha male status.”

“What? What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Johnny asked, incensed. 

“At least you’re not the one who’s taking it up the  _ arse _ ,” he said sarcastically. “Water is for pussies. Just…” 

“Now wait a fucking minute. Patrick said that, and I was about to correct him before you fucking lost it and snapped at them!” Johnny replied, his voice having risen to a reproachful near-shout now. “And the other thing was completely out of context. It was a joke. Which you’d know if you’d been _ spying _ on us a little longer!” 

“I wasn’t spying on you!” T.J. shot back, feeling his hands tremble, his heart race in his chest. The bottle of vodka still sat on the tabletop, just half an arm’s length from him. 

This time it was Johnny who let out a sarcastic snort, and he remained quiet after that.

So many thoughts were chasing each other in T.J.’s mind; there were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know where to start, didn’t have the energy to get any of them out. He couldn’t go to bed either, wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. And he couldn’t stand this feeling, this feeling of not being able to breathe and wanting everything to be alright again, aching for Johnny to just take him into his arms and at the same time being so repulsed by him that he didn’t know what to do. How to get away from feeling like that. 

“This is just great,” Johnny was saying after a few moments. “You’re home all but five minutes and we’re back at fighting over some ridiculous bullshit. Awesome. Just fucking awesome.” 

Maybe it was time for that one drink now, T.J. thought, and took what looked like an unused glass to pour some vodka into it. 

“Oh, wonderful. Yeah, we’re back at that too!” Johnny said with bitter, mocking amusement in his tone. But then he took a deep breath. “Okay T.J., stop,” he said, a lot calmer now but insistent as he crossed the distance between them, reaching for the bottle and the glass and pulling both out of T.J.’s reach. “This is not the answer. To  _ any _ thing. And you know it.” 

“Just fucking let me have that drink now,” T.J. blurted out, and it was only a moment later that he realised it was through tears. 

“No, I will not. We’ll sit down and we’ll talk and you won’t drown everything with--” Johnny had grasped T.J.’s shoulders, but T.J. pulled himself free forcefully.  

“Stop treating me like a child! Stop telling me what to do, dammit!” 

“Then stop acting like one,” Johnny said calmly, patronisingly, and it infuriated T.J. even more. 

“I’m acting like a child?” T.J. asked, and he couldn’t stop the tears now any longer, not bothering that Johnny saw. “I’m not the one who’s trying to be the world’s biggest fuckboy just to get the approval of his douchebag friends. You care so much about what they think of you, whether I’ve  _ embarrassed _ you, whether they see you as the  _ man _ in this relationship, but you don’t ask yourself for a second what that does to me!” 

“And do  _ you _ ask yourself what that does to  _ me _ ??” Johnny shot back. “You put everything I do lately under a microscope. I can’t catch a fucking break because everything is a problem for you lately. And now you play the victim like it’s all my fault and you haven’t done a single thing wrong in this? Well fuck this. And fuck you!” 

“See, that’s why I can’t talk to you,” T.J. got out weakly before the tears got the better of him, quiet sobs shaking his chest and shoulders, and he had to turn away. It hurt so much, a deep, cutting pain in the middle of his chest that reminded him too vividly of only one occasion in his life when it had felt even worse. 

He all but stumbled towards the dining table, pulling up one of the chairs to slump down on. 

“That’s because you never talk,” Johnny said, still reproachful but softer now. “You just expect me to read your mind and know when you suddenly have a problem with something that never was a problem before. And just before you say it, accusing me and snapping at me isn’t talking either. That’s starting a fight.”

Of course Johnny had to lecture him again, had to make it all about T.J.’s shortcomings. And the worst part of it was that he did have a point. 

“Jesus, T.J., what do we do? I don’t want to keep this up anymore.” 

And that was it, wasn’t it? He’d fucked it up beyond repair. His grandma had been wrong after all. Six bad weeks, six horrible ones if you gave all those fights and quarrels the impact they had earned, really did trump two good years. The pain in his chest, in his stomach… in all of his body and soul became unbearable, and T.J. just wanted to give in to it. To curl into a ball and break down, but his last remaining dignity kept him from it. 

The chair next to him was pulled back, and Johnny sat down a second later, pushing a box of cleenex in T.J.’s direction, and for a moment it made him feel even worse, weak and helpless for needing it and for accepting this small act of kindness. 

From the corner of his eye he saw Johnny with one elbow on the table, fingers covering his mouth and chin, and although T.J. didn’t look any closer, it was hard to miss that Johnny was hurting too. 

Silence stretched between them, and T.J. was prepared - though far from ready - for what was to come, for Johnny stating the inevitable. What Johnny said then, however, shocked him more than anything he could have come up with in his mind. 

“Do you even still want to be with me?” 

T.J. could only stare at him, saw, through the blur of his own tears, that Johnny’s eyes weren’t completely dry either. “What?” 

Johnny swallowed, and a thin, crooked smile formed on his lips to mask his own sadness. “Well I’m just not sure. It’s like everything I do or say lately kind of rubs you the wrong way. Like you’re not just not interested in what I’m doing, but you really can’t stand it. The people I hang out with, me racing again.” He made a small waving motion with his hand, his gaze focused on a spot somewhere on the table surface before he looked back at T.J. “And the sex? We used to be crazy about each other, all over each other! And I’m seriously sorry if I freaked you out the other day, I really am. But… when was the last time you initiated something?” He paused a short moment again, his voice becoming thicker and lower when he continued, “When was the last time you told me you loved me?” 

It was too much for T.J. to process, a complete U-turn from what he had expected, and his mind was rattling from the effort of putting the picture together. “I… I don’t know,” he confessed at last, still not quite sure whether all he had just heard should be enough to make him believe that Johnny breaking up with him was nothing he should have to fear. 

Johnny nodded slowly, looking down again with that close-lipped, regretful smile on his lips. “So… do you?” 

T.J. wanted to say the words with full conviction, strongly and assuredly, but the lump in his throat still hadn’t gone away. If at all, it made his breathing hitch even worse, pain and relief paired in the strangest way. “Of course,” was all he got out, another breathy sob nearly swallowing the words. 

And then Johnny’s arm was around his shoulder, his face nuzzled against the crook of T.J.’s neck, and for long minutes that was all. Just a gentle contact of comfort and reassurance that he melted into while the tears slowly subsided. It left him feel drained and exhausted but also with a newfound sense of ease and confidence, not yet strong enough to drown out everything else, to magically fix every little and small problem within this one instant, but it did feel good. 

“We just need to find a way to fix this, then,” Johnny said, sounding a lot more optimistic in his gentle tone than T.J. felt. But eventually they would find a way. They had to. 

~*~

The days that followed were a strange up and down ride, Johnny could find no other way to describe it. 

That evening, they hadn’t really talked much. Even if he had been a bit insensitive before, it would have taken a blind and deaf man not to notice how much it all had worn on T.J., and so Johnny had put his own needs aside and just offered some comfort. They had moved to the couch and sat there, arms around each other for a long with T.J. having nearly dozed off twice. 

It was strange and a little bit ironic to think that they had basically both been afraid of the same thing, and Johnny was glad that that was out of the way. Though it must have been a whole lot worse for T.J. than for him. Johnny hadn’t really thought T.J. would break up with him before. Sure, the thought may have fleetingly crossed his mind whenever he had felt dismissed and judged, but it had never been frighteningly acute. Not until after T.J. had kicked out Mick and Patrick, and it had only fully hit him somewhere halfway through their fight that he wasn’t so sure of the integrity of their relationship and of T.J.’s feelings for him anymore. 

It had taken a while longer after that for him to realise, to put together the puzzle pieces, that T.J. must have been afraid of that option much more, and possibly much longer, and Johnny wondered how and when they both could have fucked up in their communication so much to make this happen. It all made perfect sense now, though. The resigned attitude, almost apathy in some instances. With what he had been through in the past with that Sean asshole it really should have come as no surprise. Once bitten, twice shy, as they said. 

Of course, knowing this didn’t change and solve everything overnight. Johnny had had his own reasons to feel disappointed, to feel like T.J. wasn’t supporting him the way he should, like he recently met all his actions with much stronger criticism than before, and Johnny really wasn’t willing to give up everything that T.J. didn’t approve of just to please him. They would still have to talk a lot about those issues - and yes, Johnny realised he had been stupid to think they could be handled and eliminated by trying to create a few nice moments for them without actually getting to the bottom of it all. But, despite everything, there was a gut feeling in him now that everything was mostly okay. Or it would be again if they kept an open mind and continued in trying to understand rather than reproach each other for their past mistakes. 

On Thursday, they did talk a little over breakfast. When Johnny brought it up, T.J. did want to hear about the context of the line he’d overheard the previous evening. It had started with them talking about Deadpool and Mick joking that he wasn’t  _ tough  _ enough to let anybody fuck him in the ass, even if that person looked as hot as Vanessa, and the conversation had just rolled on from there. He could sense that T.J. still didn’t approve of Mick; he hadn’t really been fond of him from the start, and that, although it bothered Johnny, was something he’d have to accept. 

The biggest issue was that Johnny felt like he still had to tiptoe his way around certain topics, and so it wasn’t in a completely casual way when he announced that he’d go meet Patrick and Dennis for lunch on Friday to discuss Johnny’s involvement in the planned racing cup. In a way, it felt like he had to ask for permission and that riled him quite a bit, though he made sure not to let it show. They’d have to take baby steps from here, and all in all, it seemed like at least they weren’t falling on their butts again. 

Friday afternoon and evening had T.J. attend a charity event where he auctioned off a private piano lesson to support an organisation that took care of abused or impoverished children. A dance with Johnny went to an old lady for no less than five thousand bucks, and for the first time since T.J. had returned from Washington Johnny actually heard him laugh when Sue couldn’t stop making fun of the fact that the old lady had tried to put her hands on Johnny’s butt not once but a total number of four times. 

It had been a good evening, finally something they had done together again other than sitting at home and watching TV, and the night ended, to Johnny’s surprise and delight, with T.J. emerging from the bathroom naked and crawling onto the bed, kissing him with an enthusiasm he hadn’t felt from his boyfriend in a long while. 

On Saturday and Sunday they just took things slow, did a bit of Christmas shopping and spent most of the time at home, putting up some decorations and, for the first time in what felt like ages, laughing together - about an old playlist with dirty Christmas songs Johnny had dug up on his iPod.

It was Monday when things became a little more difficult again. They had just come back home from the gym when Johnny received an invitation from Patrick to a party the same night, and he battled with himself all the way through their late breakfast until he finally brought it up, again hating the fact that something so mundane as a party invitation should even be an issue. 

“So… would you be okay with staying in alone tonight?” he asked after having refilled both their coffee cups. 

T.J.’s brows rose slightly as he looked at Johnny, taking a careful sip of his still hot coffee. “Where do you want to go?” 

“Patrick invited me,” he replied, not wanting to beat around the bush for too long. “Dennis will be there again, and they want to finalise his involvement. You  _ are _ invited too, but I didn’t think you’d wanna go?” It was a very frail hope that T.J. might surprise him, and unlike other times Johnny didn’t try to manipulate him into it. But he so wished T.J. would just go, would take part in the plans for Johnny’s future and meet people who’d play a relevant role in it. 

But, as expected, T.J. shook his head softly. “I’m sorry, but no.” 

Johnny let out a small sigh, hiding it behind a smile and a half-shrug. “Okay then.”

“Is it in the Hamptons again?” he wanted to know. 

“No, his penthouse here in Manhattan. You know, the same building where Frank Sinatra owned an apartment. I think it’s right next to it actually, or one floor down,” Johnny said to keep the conversation casual, but instead of interest, what he got was a barely concealed eyeroll from T.J., before he seemed to catch himself. 

“Ah, right. I remember.” 

“So I won’t be far. Just in case the radiator stops working again or something,” Johnny added with a chuckle. 

T.J. smiled back softly. “Okay, that’s good.” 

So they were not yet back at their easygoing level of communication, but that was probably a bit much to ask. At least this was something, and Johnny was determined to keep it on this path. 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not having replied to all comments yet. They often come in when I don't have time to reply, and then I suppose I forgot. I'll make up for it soon!

Where the house at the Hamptons had already been luxurious and stately, the apartment on the Upper East Side showed more of Patrick’s personal taste and style. The main living space was open with a modern kitchen of dark, shiny wood and stainless steel; the sofas - dark leather - big and near futuristic but with a classical chic to them that matched the original features in the apartment, like the stucco ceilings and the large curved staircase. Johnny couldn’t help admiring Patrick’s interior design choices, not wanting to think of the money that had obviously gone into all of it. 

At the beginning of the party, most guests mingled in the living room. There was a buffet with canapes again, champagne, cocktails, beer - catering for every preference the guests may have the right thing. Mick, as was to be expected, was drinking beer and Johnny joined him, leaning against the wall next to the kitchen. 

“So did that boyfriend of yours simmer down the other night?” he asked, a soft smirk around his lips. 

“Yeah,” Johnny replied, shrugging softly. “He’s just been under a lot of stress lately. The thing with his grandma and all,” he gave as a more generic answer, not really feeling like going into the details and finding this to be a good enough explanation and excuse for the outburst. “And Patrick was kinda… well, a bit of a douche even if he didn’t mean to.” 

“A little over-sensitive, your sweetheart, isn’t he?” 

Johnny wasn’t so sure about ‘over’, but T.J. definitely had been more sensitive lately, and so he shrugged again. “Aren’t we all sometimes?” 

Mick gave a breathy chuckle and had another sip of his beer. “My wife used to be very over-sensitive, too. Got her knickers into a twist over every--”

“Yeah, but T.J.’s not your wife, and I’m not you,” Johnny cut him short a little snappily. “We talked things out and everything’s good, so.”

A small grin formed on Mick’s lips as he looked over at Johnny a little more closely. “Proved your point there.” 

“Oh shut up,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes, but seeing the persistent grin on Mick’s lips and the way he pulled up his shoulder, palm of one hand turned out concedingly, made him chuckle too. 

“Alright, call me a wanker then. I know I can be one sometimes.” 

“Yeah you can. A real…” Johnny pretended to rack his brain for a word for a second, before he added, “tosser.” 

“Oh wow, Johnny boy, you speak my language,” Mick laughed, slapping Johnny on the shoulder. “But honestly, sorry if I overstepped, but I’m just concerned for you, mate. Would hate to see you stuck in an unhappy marriage like I was.” 

“And I appreciate your concern, but firstly T.J. and I aren’t married, and secondly we’re not unhappy. Just a bit of a rough patch, but it’s all good now,” he said, trying to ignore that there was just a tiny, tiny voice somewhere in the back of his mind that wanted to add doubt to the conviction with which he had said his words. 

Maybe not  _ all _ was good yet. And maybe he had to say goodbye to the idea that he could share everything with T.J., that they’d never fight over things Johnny enjoyed, but in the grand scheme of things this was a small price to pay when compared to everything good they’d had over the past two years. And would continue to have in the future. Above all else, Johnny was determined to do what it took to make this work. And who knew, maybe they _ would  _ be married one day, and they still wouldn’t end up like Mick and his wife. After all, there were plenty of examples in the world of couples that  _ didn’t _ suffer the same fate as them. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll stay out of it,” Mick conceded, and Johnny gave him a grateful smile. 

“Oh, look, Dennis is here.” Mick nodded in direction of the door where Patrick was greeting the latest guest. “Time to talk business then. Or… after another drink or two,” he added while Johnny was watching Dennis hand an expensive-looking bottle of liquor to Patrick and explaining something about it.

They did have a glass of what turned out to be a very fine French cognac, engaging in some small talk before the four of them headed for one of the other rooms, off a hallway on the right side of the living room. It was a study with access to the main balcony, and Patrick opened the window before he lit a big cigar, bragging about how he’d gotten a full case of it from a business partner and how it was one of the finest you could get. Johnny, never really having liked the taste or smell of cigarettes and cigars, declined when offered one as well, and so did Dennis. 

Dennis was a bit of health freak, probably eating healthier than all of them together and starting his day with a six mile run. He seemed very down-to-earth, too, very straight to the point, as Johnny had already learned the first time he met him. It didn’t take him long to present the latest plans for the cup and his involvement as direct sponsor for Johnny, but when they got to the numbers it immediately became clear that the funds he offered weren’t sufficient for all of Johnny’s expenses. Patrick, who led the talk most of the time, didn’t show any sign that this alarmed him in any way. 

The meeting ended rather quickly. Dennis excused himself from the party on the grounds that he had several early morning appointments. 

When the three of them were alone again, Johnny finally asked the question he had kept to himself before. “So… if he isn’t providing all of the money we’ll need for me to race, who is?” 

Patrick rolled the ash from his now considerably shorter cigar and leaned back, a grin slowly spreading on his lips as he looked at Johnny. “I am.” 

“You are?” 

Patrick nodded slowly. “This will be a great investment for me, too. And of course I’m happy to support you.”

Johnny didn’t fully understand, trying to go over the numbers he’d just heard in his mind. “Yeah, but… Dennis is only providing like a third of the whole budget. And he’s bought the majority of the advertising space on the car and my suit. Are you… are you gonna pay that much more for the small spaces left?” 

Patrick leaned back again and laughed. “God, that’s cute. Jesus, you really don’t know anything about doing business, do you?” he said, smiling at Johnny in a rather pitying way that briefly made him a little annoyed. 

“Let me explain it to you. Because I’ve  _ just _ the plan, and it’s going to be amazing. You know how I manage the facebook and instagram sites of several celebrities, right?”

Johnny nodded, though the names he could think of and knew weren’t exactly A-list stars. 

“Now we’ve devised a whole new marketing strategy, working closely with several medium-sized and bigger businesses to place their products online and use the range of those celebrity sites to market them. Think of a new electric razor, and someone with several hundred thousand followers posts it on Instagram or Facebook. That’s great marketing already, right?” 

Johnny nodded, still confused about the whole picture. Patrick continued, “Now imagine that celebrity not only shows what they’ve bought but they also offer their followers a special deal if the post is liked or shared. Friends of the people sharing and liking it see this on their timelines, and if they want to get the product for a special price they will have to follow the celebrity to get the discount, and the manufacturers of the product gain a huge amount of publicity and new customers. Win win.” 

“Well, that sounds good and all,” Johnny said, brow furrowed as he leaned a little closer, elbows on the table. “But how do I fit into the picture?” 

Patrick’s brows went up, the grin on his lips turning wider. “You don’t have a professionally managed Instagram and Facebook account, do you?” 

“No, but…” And finally it clicked and Johnny understood where this was going. And although he couldn’t fully say why, not yet, his first instinct was to not like the idea very much. 

“Ah, he’s got it,” Patrick said, leaning over to pat him on the shoulder. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. This is going to be just amazing. In fact, I think you’re going to be the biggest crowd puller I’ve had so far. You’re a real life superhero. People will go nuts wanting to buy the same shoes you wear, or use the same after shave, or drink the same energy drink. Identifying with an actor or musician is one thing, but an actual hero? And one as cool and charismatic as you? You’re gonna be a real zinger. And that’s where I earn my money, because I have shares in all the companies we do advertising for or get a lucrative commission. It may take a few months longer to cover my expenses, but after that it’s going to skyrocket.” 

“Of course you’re gonna advertise for my club, too,” Mick said now, having let Patrick do all the talking over the last few minutes. “So that’s where I get something out of it, too.”

It really did sound like a very good marketing strategy, Johnny got that much. And he’d never been opposed to using his fame and influence for economic gain either, particularly not while the Fantastic Four were still at the beginning and money was being swallowed by all the expensive research Sue and Reed did faster than it could be generated. But this… this kind of didn’t feel like the same thing as wearing a brand logo on his suit or making an individual deal with a sponsor like Dennis. And he was starting to realise why. 

“So, that facebook and instagram page that you’d manage, would I even be posting anything on it myself?”

“Well if you want to do that from time to time, sure, that’s going to get you extra attention. Give them a bit of the personal life of Johnny Storm here and there. But everything else would be managed by us. You wouldn’t have to actually  _ do _ the advertising,” Patrick explained. 

“Who’s ‘us’. You and Mick?” 

Patrick laughed again, and Johnny really was starting to feel annoyed by how patronising that seemed. “No, Mick is just one of our brand partners. I mean me and my company. My marketing people. You don’t think I’m doing a lot of this myself, do you?” 

“Well… no,” Johnny said, just so biting his tongue around a comment that wanted to escape him on not being able to imagine Patrick sitting at a computer for hours to no end,  _ working _ . “So what kinds of brands would I be advertising?” 

Patrick shrugged. “Like I said, clothing lines, personal hygiene products, alcoholic beverages and some local businesses like Mick’s club or new store chains. Whatever we can make a good deal with and think fits you and comes over as authentic when you endorse it.” 

“Okay, so… do you have a list of those companies then?” Johnny asked, thinking that there might be businesses he wouldn’t want to support, but Patrick only shook his head. 

“Don’t concern yourself with the specifics, Johnny. We’ll take care of that for you in your name. Trust me, I’ve got a good nose for interesting products and a good network of potential partners. It’s worked out to everyone’s benefit before, and I’ve got many clients with the same arrangement. But I will email you the contract tomorrow. You can have a look at it and then you come around to sign it… Does Wednesday sound good for you?” 

Johnny still didn’t feel exactly comfortable with it all, but having a look at the contract and checking out the other pages Patrick managed could do no harm. In fact, if he started discussing terms now before having gotten that information, it could do more harm than good for his prospect to participate in that racing cup, and he really didn’t want to destroy that option. He nodded and made himself smile at Patrick. “Sure, Wednesday is fine.” 

“Great,” Patrick said, getting up from the chair. “And now let’s get back to the party. Have a few drinks and something to eat. All business and no fun is… well, no fun.” 

He slapped Johnny’s back again on his way out, and Johnny followed, suppressing the sigh that wanted to leave him. 

It was Trish who greeting him as soon as he got to the kitchen. She must have gotten here while they were in the study, and his mood automatically picked up a bit when he saw her smile brightly at him, lifting her arms to pull him into a hug hello. “Johnny! So good to see you again. Missed you already.” 

“Aww, really?” he laughed, laying an arm around her waist and hugging her to his side. “But it’s only been… what? Ten days?” 

She rolled her eyes briefly, a smile still on her lips. “Well, yeah. But the girls over there have been talking Fashion Week and hair products non stop ever since I got here, and I’ve had enough of it.”

“Well, why don’t you talk to the boys then?” Johnny asked, and Trish rolled her eyes again. 

“To hear about their latest Tinder adventures or, over there,” she nodded towards a group surrounding Alex, “about how Islamists are taking over America and that the Cleveland attack was just the start? I don’t think so. Between fuckboys and wannabe-politicians I’d rather talk about conditioner.” 

That made Johnny laugh, and finally he felt at ease again, realising that Trish and Mick probably were the only people here he could talk to the way he wanted. 

“Besides, you’re my favourite boy anyway,” she said, still smiling brightly in a benignly flirty way.

“Aww, and you’re my favourite girl,” he said before looking around the room. “Since Nea isn’t here.” 

As expected, Trish punched him in the arm in mock affront before she laughed too, uninhibited and sweetly. 

“So, back to topic,” Johnny started, suppressing his own grin as much as he could behind a serious tone. “What conditioner do you recommend?” 

The laugh she let out now was louder than before, her whole face lighting up with hilarity. It really did feel so good to be laughing about silly things with someone, the way he had often done with T.J. but rarely ever recently. He understood that he could not expect that yet, though there had been tentative signs of it like at the fundraiser event, and he’d soaked them up like a man dying of thirst. But after the tension of the past few weeks he had really, really needed just a bit of fun, just something light and unpressured to get his mind off of things, give him a boost of positive energy that he could then use to stay on the right track to mend things with T.J. until, eventually, they could laugh together again like this, too. 

“I’m glad you’re here, you know?” he said, meaning it, grateful to have a friend in her that gave him just what he needed right now. 

There was a thoughtful look on Trish’s face all of the sudden, and she seemed to study him for a few seconds before the smile reappeared on her lips and she grabbed two glasses of a orange-coloured longdrink someone else had just prepared on the counter next to them. 

“Come on,” she said, as she pushed one glass into his hand. “I want to show you something.” 

They went up the stairs where the bedrooms - two as it looked like - were located. Trish led him into the one facing east, and Johnny briefly wondered whether Patrick was okay with them simply entering his bedroom. But then again, the door had been left open, and the place looked immaculately clean and tidy (modern, as the rest of the interior, bordering on the sterile but nevertheless really nice). Trish went to the windows, opening the curtains and then the door that led to a small balcony, waving him over to step outside with her. 

The view was spectacular, overlooking Roosevelt Island and, beyond, Queens. They had a great view from their own apartment, too, but here with the river right in front of it it gave the sight a completely different flair. 

“See the big rooftop terrace over there?” Trish asked and pointed towards the apartment next and above Patrick’s. “That was Frank Sinatra’s.” 

“So you’re telling me he sat there, looking out over the river like we’re doing and wrote his songs?” Johnny asked and Trish let out a small, huffed laugh. 

“Hardly. He barely lived here back then because he was down at the West Coast most of the time. But rumour has it Sammy Davis Jr. often used this apartment. If walls could talk, huh?” 

Johnny shrugged slightly, not being overly excited about that bit of history since he’d never been a huge fan of Sinatra or the Rat Pack. But it definitely was interesting, and he did wonder what it all looked like in their days in a city as fast growing as New York. 

“So… pretty prestigious building, huh? Do I dare ask how much Patrick’s apartment was worth?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know, but definitely several million,” Trish replied. She started shivering, hugging herself for warmth, and Johnny could see goosebumps on her bare arms. 

“Let’s get you back inside,” he said, briefly rubbing her upper arms, before they made it back and shut the door. Grabbing her drink again from the sideboard, Trish sat down on the foot of the bed, obviously not wanting to go back downstairs just yet as she patted the spot next to her. 

Johnny sat down, his own glass in hand and clinking it to hers softly before he took a sip. 

“So, how are you anyway?” she asked, and her gaze turned a little more serious again, even concerned if Johnny wasn’t misinterpreting it, and it made him furrow his brow in confusion. 

“I’m good. Why are you asking?” 

She shrugged vaguely. “Well, I don’t mean to pry, but Mick told me there was some trouble with T.J. the other week.”

“Oh,” Johnny replied, letting out a small, slightly exasperated laugh. He was about to shrug it off but something in her gentle gaze and voice made him reluctant to do so. Made him want to at least share a bit of it with someone when he couldn’t really do so with Mick. Trish would definitely be more understanding and sensitive with such a topic, he was sure, and so he gave her a nod at last. “Yeah. We’ve been fighting a bit recently. Well, not just a bit. Kinda often,” he confessed. 

Trish turned around a bit to better face him, her brow in soft wrinkles and smile sympathetic, simply prompting him to go on. And so he did, telling her about how it had all started, how T.J. seemed to dislike his new group of friends (but leaving out the small misunderstanding about having dated Trish in the past), how he hadn’t shown any interest in Johnny picking up racing again, and, even though they  _ were _ on a good track right now and Johnny did want to understand T.J., it felt so,  _ so _ good to simply vent a little, let his frustrations out to somebody who was listening but wouldn’t take it the wrong way. He told her about how a set of unlucky circumstances had made him call late and then nearly miss the whole concert, and how everything had affected their love life (but leaving out the incident before T.J. had gone to Washington, too). 

And Trish just listened, asked a few questions here and there but didn’t seem to judge or give any comments like Mick would do, every time, and by the end of the talk, when Johnny had gotten out everything that had still irked and troubled him, he felt a whole lot lighter, like having replenished the energy reserves he’d still need to get him and T.J. out of this crisis completely. 

“God, I’m really sorry you had to go through all of this,” she said at last and brought a hand to his, squeezing it lightly. 

“Yeah well, I’m okay. I’ll be okay, don’t worry,” he said with a soft smile. “Thanks for lending an ear!” 

“You’re really welcome,” she replied and, putting her now empty glass on the floor, reached around his shoulders to hug him. 

Johnny was still thinking about what a great friend Trish was, and that he hoped T.J. would see that eventually and he could include her in birthday parties and other celebrations, when, quite suddenly and unforeseen, he felt her lips on his. Too perplexed to move, say or do anything, he let the contact linger, her arms still around his back. 

~*~

Johnny had been gone for about half an hour earlier that evening when T.J. started to feel a little guilty about it. He did by no means  _ want _ to spend an evening in most of all Patrick’s company, but he was starting to ask himself whether he had not been a little too harsh on Johnny as a result. 

Things had gone rather well the past few days, and for the first time in a long time T.J. felt like they were finally on the up, like he didn’t have to worry constantly whether Johnny would break up with him, and like he didn't need to feel so angry and disappointed all the time. What he hadn’t understood before was that Johnny, too, had felt rejected and disappointed, and that definitely was nothing T.J. had ever meant to cause. 

There was just still the problem that T.J. hated the people Johnny hung out with and who were directly connected to his latest ambition, and there were only two choices that left him with: avoid them and continue to let Johnny down or suck it up and support him as he should. 

It was that question that T.J. had been mulling over for quite a long time. His thoughts automatically led him to the first few concerts he had been giving about two years ago and how Johnny had been there for every single one of them. How he, too, had socialised with people he probably wouldn’t have spent his time with, although, admittedly, none of them had been bigots but simply people Johnny considered utterly boring. He had still, up until the unfortunate exception of his most recent concert, shown interest in what T.J. was doing and accompanied him often. And it wasn’t that much later when T.J. finally decided that, to make this relationship work, make it balanced and mutually supportive, they both had to make amends and compromise. 

Finding the building where Patrick lived was just a google search away with the information he had at hand, and just half an hour after he had made the decision, he was being led to the elevators by the porter. 

When he rang the doorbell, it was a stranger who opened, a tall man roughly his own age, and he recognised him instantly, smiling in welcome as he let him in. “Food and drinks are in the kitchen. If you’re looking for Patrick he’s somewhere… I dunno. He’ll show up again,” the guy said as T.J. let his gaze drift around the spacious living room. He saw Alex in the distance, glad that he took no notice of him, but Johnny was nowhere in sight yet. 

He was rounding the wall into the kitchen area, when a familiar voice reached his ears over the general noises of talk and laughter around him. 

“T.J., mate! What are you doing here?” Mick came towards him with swift steps, and yes, T.J. could have done without having to socialise with him too. Despite having felt completely in the right last week, he did feel mildly embarrassed now, but to his surprise, Mick did not exactly do his best to remind him of it. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you here. Good on you, mate,” he said, slapping his shoulder lightly. 

T.J. just shrugged softly and at least gave Mick a small smile in return. “Good party so far?” 

“Oh you bet! Patrick’s parties aways are. What are you drinking? Beer? Wine? Champagne?” he asked, nodding towards the drinks on the counter, the big bucket filled with crushed ice to keep them cool and, as T.J. assumed, easier to access than having to reach into the fridge every time. He shook his head nevertheless, deciding he’d come back for a drink later. 

“I’d like to find Johnny first. Have you seen him?”

Mick turned and looked around. “Uh, no idea, to be honest. Patrick isn’t here either. Maybe they’re in the study, discussing business. But yeah, definitely go and disturb them. There’s only so much business talk one should endure.” And yeah, okay, so he may be a bit of a bigot, but at least he was deliberately being nice to T.J., he had to give him that. 

“Oh, that definitely sounds like something I should break up,” he said, giving Mick another small smile before, after being pointed in the right direction, he made his way to the study. The corridor was only dimly lit, no voices to be heard with the sounds of the party still audible in the back, but T.J. did find a half-open door to the right. 

“Johnny? You in there?” he called softly, knocking onto the door twice before he entered. What he saw then, however, made him freeze. 

Patrick was leant over a woman - not Alina, who T.J. had been sure to have seen sitting on the couch - one finger covering one nostril while he sniffed an unmistakable white line from her cleavage. He definitely had noticed T.J. entering but made sure to inhale deeply, seemingly relishing the feeling and dabbing at his nose as he sniffed two more times, before he turned his head to acknowledge T.J.’s presence. 

“T.J. I didn’t know you’d join us tonight,” he said, and unlike Mick’s his tone was rather cool and not at all welcoming. “Johnny isn’t here, as you can see.” 

T.J. had to take a deep breath to keep his composure, his gaze drifting to the white residue on the woman’s skin who looked over at him, too, her eyes glassy and dark from probably too much booze. 

“But do come in. We’ve got enough to share,” Patrick said, waving his arm in direction of a small white bag on the table. 

T.J. was already regretting having come here and every other conclusion he had come to. There was just no way he could ever tolerate sharing the same space as Patrick, not even for Johnny. “No thanks,” he finally managed to reply, his tone equally cool, or even more. He couldn’t tell over the slight tremor in it. 

“You should really allow yourself some fun once in a while. You’d be less tense and… bitchy.” 

And wow, that really did it, and T.J. was definitely throwing all his good intentions over board. Without another word, he walked back into the living room, looking around for Johnny who was still nowhere in sight. He saw Alex again instead, and, deciding things couldn’t possibly get any worse with him, decided to approach him. 

“Hey, have you seen Johnny?” he asked, patting him on the upper arm to get his attention.

Alex looked at him in surprise for a moment. “Hello, when did you get here?” 

T.J. shook his head in exasperation. “Never mind, have you seen Johnny?” 

“Uh… Yes. Last time I saw he went upstairs.” 

T.J. just briefly wondered what Johnny was doing upstairs, but he wasted no time on it, already making it past a throng of people and to the wide staircase, up onto the second floor. There, he found three doors, one of them to the left, closed, another at the very end of the corridor, also closed, and one more to the right, open, as he could see from his angle without being able to look inside just yet. 

T.J. didn’t know then or much later whether he regretted not having called out for Johnny or was glad for it. Had he done it, the sight that had presented him certainly would have been a different one. When he stopped at the door frame, looking inside, he found himself frozen to the spot once more, but it was a completely different kind of shock than seeing Patrick do cocaine, an utterly different feeling that seemed to push all air out of his lungs and made him feel dizzy. Johnny was kissing Trish. She had her arms around him, and it was like someone had pulled the ground from underneath T.J.’s feet. 

He didn’t know whether it was just half a second, or ten, before Johnny seemed to draw away from Trish, his hands around her upper arms. 

“Trish, I….” But then his gaze found T.J. in the doorway, and he seemed to freeze up as well, just his eyes widening in shock, and that, seeing that caught look on Johnny’s face did it at last. T.J. nearly stumbled in direction of the stairs again, not wanting to see it for even just a second longer. 

“Shit! T.J., wait!” Johnny called behind him, and while T.J. was still trying to find the strength to walk calmly but swiftly, to not slip before he reached the upper landing of the stairs, Johnny hurried behind him. “This… isn’t what it looks like. Shit, T.J. seriously, I swear! Just wait a second, please!” 

Of course he’d say that, but T.J. was unable to listen. He just needed to get out of here, needed some fresh air and none of those people around him. 

“I was just stopping it! T.J. please wait,” Johnny was still saying, hurrying down the stairs behind him, but T.J. was faster in the end. He didn’t pay attention to any of the people looking at him, didn’t mind bumping into someone on his way out as he pushed through a group of people standing near the door. He could still hear Johnny’s calls on his way out, but he got to the elevator first, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the doors slid shut, barely a second before Johnny reached it. 

It took all the strength T.J. still had left to not simply slide down against the wall and instead make it out of the building and onto the street. He ran to the end of the block so Johnny wouldn’t catch up with him, and then, at last, could stop a taxi that would take him home. It was only then, on the backseat, that he allowed the tears to come, unable to keep them in any longer. 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. Again apologies for taking a full week to reply to your comments. I really do appreciate them all very much, but this week has been busy and also a bit crazy (those of you who are in the Sherlock fandom will understand).   
> Anyway, here's the next chapter.

Johnny rushed out of the building, out of breath after having ran down the stairs of all sixteen floors. Waiting for the elevator to return and taking it would probably have been faster, he had realised around half the distance, and of course, T.J. was nowhere in sight when he looked left and right along the street. He briefly considered flying, but that, once more, would put him in the position of having to lose both keys and cell phone, and who knew whether T.J. had really gone home. Or would open the door, should Johnny land on the balcony. 

And so, all he could do was sprint towards New York Avenue, hoping to find a taxi quickly enough this time of night. His heart was still beating rapidly, and it wasn’t just from physical exertion. That had been the worst possible moment for T.J. to get there - and why had he come to the party in the first place? Why hadn’t he called or texted? Did something happen with his grandma? Was it,  _ oh God _ , Sue or Frankie? But then he definitely would have been called, so he could at least discard that option. 

It took another two minutes for him to find a taxi, and he almost had to fight for it with another guy, before he finally sat in it, on the way back to their home. He urged the driver to speed up, lucky enough that traffic, at least, was on their side. 

_ Shit. _

He really had not seen this coming, had not thought even for a second that Trish was (still?) interested in him that way. But in hindsight, it made a whole lot of sense, and he wanted to smack himself for being so stupid not to see it. In hindsight, he also played through the moment in which T.J. had caught them, and he wondered what he could have said and said  _ faster _ to make T.J. listen, to get him to understand that he had not initiated this, had not wanted to go along with it for more than a few seconds in which he’d been too stunned to end the kiss. He had  _ just _ been about to push her away, had _ just _ wanted to tell her she must have misunderstood something and that he couldn’t do this. Had T.J. only gotten there a few seconds later and heard him say it, it might have made all the difference. 

The minutes until the taxi finally stopped in front of their building seemed entirely too long, and Johnny was on edge with impatience, wanting to get this talk behind him already, to look T.J. in the eye and see that he believed him. The final seconds on the elevator were pure torture. 

At long last, he entered the apartment and was relieved to find the lights in the living room and kitchen on. T.J., to no surprise of his, was standing there with a glass of what unmistakably was hard liquor in front of him, but now was definitely not the time to lecture him on that. 

“T.J. please listen to me,” Johnny started quickly as he rounded the corner. “She kissed me. I didn’t even see this coming. I was just about to stop it when you got there. Please, you  _ have _ to believe me!”

It was impossible to guess what was going through T.J.’s mind that moment. He didn’t look at Johnny, but his eyes, at least, seemed red from tears. It broke Johnny’s heart a little to see him like that, to have caused a misunderstanding that had hurt T.J., again. 

“Then why were you alone with her in a  _ bedroom _ ?” When T.J. had opened his lips to speak, Johnny had felt the briefest glimmer of relief, only to have it destroyed by how cold and mistrusting T.J.’s voice sounded. 

“We were just talking. There were-- she wanted to show me the view from up there. I didn’t think anything of it. T.J., just believe me okay? Just--”

“I have to get out of here,” T.J. replied, letting the glass stand where it was and rushing past Johnny back towards the door without even looking at him. 

“No, wait! T.J. please, just let us talk about this. Just trust me on this, okay? I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I’d never have let anything more happen either.” 

“I need to get out. I need fresh air,” T.J. was saying, and there was a desperate urgency in his voice now that Johnny found hard to make sense of. He was almost at the door, Johnny two steps behind him, and within only a second or less, multiple thoughts shot through his mind, some ridiculous and some not, of T.J. going to cheat on him on purpose, of him getting into an accident for being too occupied by his own thoughts, of something, anything bad happening because he was in no state to be walking around alone, and of him never coming back, and Johnny panicked. 

“No. Wait!” A flame shot from his hand, and the brass doorknob glowed redhot.

T.J. stared at him, eyes wide, and for the first time ever, Johnny realised with a crushing, mind-numbing sense of shock and guilt that he saw fear in T.J.’s eyes. 

“Please just talk to me for a minute, please,” he tried as calmly and pleadingly as he could, keeping his distance, hands up in front of him. 

“Let me out,” T.J. only replied, his voice barely above a whisper now. 

“T.J. please, believe me! I’d never have cheated on you, I swear! God, please, why can’t you just believe me? I lov--”

“LET ME OUT!” The shout came out with such sudden force that it made Johnny flinch, his heart beating all the way up to his throat, and he knew that he had really fucked up this time. Although he didn’t want to, was still worried and even frightened of the outcome, he took a deep breath and passed T.J. to the exit. The doorknob was still hot when he touched it without feeling any pain, and it took some force to turn it. 

“Please, T.J., let us just talk about this,” he said softly again but held the door wide open. “Later then? When you get back?”

But T.J. didn’t say anything, just grabbed his coat and headed out. 

He wanted to add something, wanted to tell him to take care of himself, to call if he needed being picked up, but none of this seemed to fit or make much sense. And so Johnny just watched as T.J. headed towards the elevator and disappeared in it a moment later, and he closed the door again, letting his back thump against it. 

For all the progress they had made this felt like it had catapulted them back at least ten steps, and there was nothing he could do about it right now. Whether he could later, he’d have to find out. All he  _ could _ do was wait and hope for the best. 

~*~

It was cold that night, really cold. An icy wind swept through the streets between tall buildings, howling and hissing, and a moisture lay in the air that made the wind burn on T.J.’s face. He’d been walking for a while now, no idea where to go, what to do. He just needed to get his head cleared, but so far, nothing happened to make him succeed. 

Somewhere along the line, between being disappointed, hurt and shocked, there was a feeling that had settled deep in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t even fully explain. It was a numb, dull ache, dark and deep and without any tangible shape. He tried to take it apart, get to the bottom of it, but every time he examined it from one angle, it was like it rose and grew from another. 

It was ridiculous, really. Maybe he should talk to Johnny, should believe him and keep an open mind in this before everything was thoroughly explained. And maybe he should hold on to the hope the past few days had sparked, staying on that road instead of straying from it and falling back into a place even worse than the one he’d found himself in weeks before. But what he knew he should do and what he felt were two different kinds of things altogether, two beings so unlike the other that T.J. felt split between the two, in the middle of a fight that seemed to find no end. 

If only he could catch a break and not feel anything for a while. 

It was the second time since he had left their building that the thought occurred to him that there were things that could numb the pain, could make him feel good and elated, strong and in control, and although he had only allowed the thought to stay for a second or two the last time, he found it much harder to chase it off now. There were places he could go, people he could ask… 

But no, this was a colossally bad idea, and he had made a promise to his grandma, one to himself as well those many years ago, and even though there was a small part of him, defying all common sense and wanting to make Johnny regret what he had put T.J. through, the bigger, better part of him pushed it far into the back of his mind. He would not slip, not this time. 

But he needed…  _ some _ thing, at least. Something to take away just a tiny piece of the weight on his chest, and the bar he came upon would provide just that. More than one drink, as he’d promised himself, but this was a situation he couldn’t have foreseen. 

He didn’t care that the bar was rather dingy, empty save for four or five other patrons, and he ignored that the barkeep gave him something between a surprised and concerned look, obviously having recognised him and noticing his distress. He did serve him, however, and that was all T.J. cared about. 

The first drink stung in his throat, everything still thick and constricted from the tears he had shed and those he had suppressed. But on the second one, a warmth started to settle in his stomach, and on the third, there was a tingling in his fingers and on his face that felt pleasant, at least physically. Soothing, in a very subtle way. 

Just what was he supposed to do after this? How was he supposed to know whether he could really trust Johnny’s words, whether the positive path they’d started on would continue or lose itself in an abyss? He felt like he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, like nothing was certain or stable, and the two years he’d had were just a momentary break from his usual life, more of an illusion than anything real. 

He didn’t  _ want  _ to think like that, wanted so desperately to be optimistic, but somehow it was like he had completely lost the ability to. Like suddenly losing one of his five senses, becoming blind or deaf, and he knew what this was at last. Knew it probably had less to do with seeing Johnny kiss Trish, with fighting again, with being angered by Patrick or frightened by Johnny. Those were just tiny little droplets that should not make him feel this way, should not make him so weak and helpless, his thoughts so dark and desolate. Should not make him order a fourth drink and a fifth, accepting this as a lesser of two evils. Should not make him wish, for a second, that his mom hadn’t come in time those years ago. Even if he was appalled at himself for thinking it. 

This wasn’t normal, and if he didn’t want to lose himself completely in these feelings, he really needed to do something about it. 

~*~

Johnny hardly slept that night. He stayed on the couch for a very long time, having the TV set to a low volume so he could listen for any sounds on the hallway that might announce T.J.’s return, but when he still hadn’t come home by three in the morning Johnny decided to go to bed. Once there, he only started to feel more anxious and worried, and by around four he was ready to get up, get into his fireproof suit and head out to look for T.J., when, at long last, he heard the apartment door being unlocked and someone shuffling around between guest bathroom and kitchen. 

It was only then that he could finally catch some sleep, but it was disturbed by troublesome dreams and stirring from random sounds, noticing to no surprise of his, that T.J. had not joined him in bed but must be resting on the couch or guest bedroom. 

He had no idea when exactly he had actually fallen asleep, nor how late it was when he woke up, hearing shuffling in the bedroom, drawers being opened and the bathroom door creaking open and closed. When he fully came to, he could hear water running in the sink and then, a minute or so later, the outer door of the bathroom being shut and steps on the gallery. He got up quickly, just grabbing a t-shirt to put it on over his boxer shorts and hurried down the stairs, his heart going a little faster with anxiousness but reminding himself to stay confident and talk this through. 

When he reached the lower landing, however, he stopped dead in his tracks as his gaze fell onto a travel bag on the dining table, a large suitcase next to it on the floor. It was almost as if his heart had stopped beating for a moment when awareness hit him, though he knew that technically it couldn’t have, and it took him another moment until he could draw his gaze from the luggage and to T.J., who was standing in the kitchen, fully dressed, a cup of coffee in front of him that he seemed to not have drunk from yet. He looked like hell, too. Dark circles under his eyes and a pained look on his face, his gaze hardly meeting Johnny’s. 

“You… you’re leaving?” Johnny finally got out, stating the obvious more than asking a proper question, and he cursed himself for how croaky and weak his words had sounded. 

T.J. fully looked away now, his head lowered, gaze somewhere in the direction of the coffee cup on the counter before he nodded slowly. 

“But why? Where are you going?”

T.J. let out a small huff of breath, a bitter or sad chuckle in it. “To Ella’s, for now. And… many reasons.” 

“But…” Johnny groaned softly to himself, finally making himself regain his composure and resolve as he crossed the few steps over to the other side of the kitchen aisle. “Can’t we sit down for a moment and talk? I really need to explain to you what happened last night, because it wasn’t what it looked like. And that’s definitely not an empty phrase, I swear!” 

“It’s not just about last night. And I’m sure if we sit down and talk you’ll convince me to stay, and I can’t do that.” T.J. still wasn’t looking at him. 

“But why?” Johnny asked again, hating to sound like a broken record. “What other reasons do you mean? We were on the uphill, weren’t we? Things were going so much better until you caught me with Trish, and I really, honestly swear to you that I didn’t even see it happen. I didn’t want it to happen, and I was stopping her. I’d never have let--”

“I know, and I believe you,” T.J. interrupted him, and that was a relief but it only made his confusion grow. 

“Then why do you need to leave? I don’t get it!” 

T.J. let out a long, low sigh through his nose, and his jaw was working, his adam’s apple going up and down as he swallowed before he finally turned his head and looked at Johnny. “I saw Patrick snort coke last night.” 

“What?” Johnny asked incredulously. “No way!” 

But T.J.’s brows only went up slightly, his gaze too tired to look genuinely exasperated. “Yes I did. And it wasn’t the first time. He invited me, too. Made it completely clear that he’d be willing to share his stash with me.” 

Johnny couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d never have expected that of Patrick, least of all the part about trying to lure a recovering addict into his old addiction again. It was real anger that sparked in him now, and he had to swallow hard to keep it down, not let it out too much while he and T.J. still had things to discuss. “That douchebag. What the fuck? Okay, sorry, I can totally see how that… derailed you,” he said, not fully getting the picture, not knowing what it must have felt like but knowing enough about addiction in general to at least imagine it. 

T.J. nodded again, looking back down. “It’s just… it’s like all control I have over this is slowly slipping from my hands. You pointed it out often enough that I was drinking too much, and yes, that pissed me off, but you were right. And last night... “ Johnny could see it took T.J. great effort and a lot of swallowing his pride to continue. “I was this close to slipping, Johnny. And I just can’t handle it. I just can’t trust myself that, at the next opportunity I won’t do it, that I still have the energy to stay strong. And I  _ can’t _ let that happen. I just can’t.” 

“Yes, of course. No,” Johnny said, feeling deeply hit and concerned by what he was hearing. He had had no idea it had become this acute. “So you… you need to get away from here. And you definitely don’t want to see Patrick again, and you know what? Neither do I because I might just break his neck next time he’s unfortunate enough to run into me.”

“Johnny, please,” T.J. said, again with that weary exasperation in his tone that stood in stark contrast to the angry frenzy Johnny had just talked himself into. 

“Please what?” he asked, and this time there was definite sadness on T.J.’s face when he looked up at him again, his eyes slightly shiny with unshed tears. 

“This isn’t one of those cases where we talk about it and fix things. It’s… it’s not going to be fixed just like that.”

“Then what do you need from me? Just tell me and I’ll do whatever it takes. We’ll get away somewhere, we’ll spend Christmas on that island in the Bahamas or wherever you want. So you can get out of this stressful situation.” 

“But right now  _ you’re _ the stressful situation!” T.J. blurted out, the sudden boost of energy with which the words had left him startling Johnny into silence. 

“Shit,” T.J. said softly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Don’t you get it? Right now, it’s everything for me. It’s you, it’s us, every fight and disagreement we have, every bit of back and forth and up and down. I just have to find me again in this, have to figure stuff out for myself without having to pick up every tiny sign and analysing it over from every angle to see if we’re doing better or not. I just don’t have the energy for it!” 

Johnny didn’t know what to say. He was honestly lost for words, and a lump had formed in the center of his chest that made it hard for him to focus. To come up with something, anything. A solution. But maybe there wasn’t one this time. 

“So what are you going to do?” he asked quietly. “You’re breaking up with me after all?” 

“No, I’m not breaking up with you,” T.J. replied, visibly struggling to maintain his strength and not cry. “I just need a break. I need time to myself. And I probably need a therapist but… I’m sorry, but I need to not see you for a while because I just can’t handle this right now.” 

“But… what about Christmas?” Johnny asked, realising that it was only days away, and they had planned to spend it together in D.C. again. “Will I see you then?” he asked, clinging on to the hope that the answer would be yes. 

But T.J. shook his head slowly, swallowing hard. “I think it’s gonna take a little longer than that.” 

It hurt, Johnny had to admit that. It hurt like hell, and a part of him wanted to fight it, wanted to convince T.J. that they could do this together, that he’d be there for him, could  _ help _ him.  But another part, one that he couldn’t really stand right now, understood that this was not what T.J. needed. And so, feeling the lump rise to his throat, he just nodded. 

“Just give me some space, okay?” T.J. repeated. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to come back… If you still want me.”

“God, of course I’ll still want you,” Johnny let out, barely above a whisper, and that was when T.J. broke, could not contain his tears any longer, and Johnny wanted to hug him so bad, wanted to take him into his arms and hold him tight, but that might make things even worse, even harder for the both of them. 

T.J. turned around, ran his sleeve over his eyes and took a deep, slightly hitched breath before he straightened his shoulders and nodded once. “Okay. Okay…” 

He didn’t look back again as he went to collect his suitcase and travel bag, neither did he when he stopped to put on his coat and shouldered his bag once more. He just stopped briefly at the door, and for a split-second Johnny thought he might just come up with a miracle solution after all to not see this happen. But then, T.J. was out of the door and Johnny alone. 

The cup of coffee still stood on the counter, untouched.  


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter for you guys. I guess it may have the one or other satisfying element ;)  
> As always, thanks a million for all your lovely comments!

Johnny didn’t know how long he just sat at the dining table, thinking. It went from where and when exactly this all had gone so wrong (and beating himself up for not realising it sooner, for having been so goddamn optimistic), to what he could do  _ now _ , whether he should send T.J. a message, just one for the road until he’d get back to Johnny eventually whenever he was ready. He had typed out three different messages only to delete them again, not finding the right words. In the end, he decided not to send anything at all - even though it was hard - because that was what T.J. had wanted, wasn’t it? Some distance, time to himself. And it was that thought, that, in order to get better, T.J. had to turn not to but away from him, that hurt the most. 

Eventually, Johnny realised he had to eat something, even if it was half-heartedly. It was later, under the shower, that his thoughts turned to something else entirely and anger spread in him again, boiling somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. When he checked his email on his phone, skimming through the contract Patrick had sent him as announced, he’d finally had enough. 

It only took him a few minutes to get into his suit and fly over to Patrick’s building, ignoring the porter’s confused looks as he walked past him to the elevator with a friendly smile and a hinted salute, and another minute later, he had rung the doorbell, waiting for it to be opened. 

“Wow, Johnny, you read it already? Thought you were coming by on Wednesday,” Patrick greeted him, surprised, before his gaze, too, changed to mild confusion about his attire. 

Johnny did not intend to reply to his question, though. “Did you offer T.J. cocaine?” he asked, very matter-of-factly, calmly. 

Patrick’s eyes widened for a split-second before a nonchalant expression replaced the previous look. “Well, yeah,” he said with a waving hand movement, a shrug, and a crooked smirk. “But he didn’t t--”

Johnny’s fist was in his face much faster than Patrick could have anticipated it, and he staggered backwards, trying to keep his balance but failing miserably as he landed on his butt right there in front of his door. The sight was just too comical, pretty much Johnny’s only source of joy that day (and that was probably wrong on so many levels but totally worth it). 

“You sick fuck!” Patrick hissed from his spot on the floor, trying to sound contemptuous but ending up rather squeaky and intimidated instead. 

“Oh look who’s talking. Pretty sure tempting a recovering addict with coke qualifies as sick, but maybe that’s just me,” Johnny couldn’t help replying, smirking down at Patrick who only slowly tried to scramble up to his feet before him. 

“Johnny?” another voice reached his ears, and he looked in direction of the guest bathroom where it had come from. “What the bleeding hell is going on here?” 

There was the smallest sense of shocked surprise to see Mick here, and maybe the very mildest hint of embarrassment at having stooped this low. But then again, Mick could very well see and hear what Johnny thought of his  _ friend _ and business partner. 

“Who’s offered cocaine to who?” Mick asked. So he had caught that last part, at least. 

“I did,” Patrick said, finally standing on his feet again and rubbing his - to Johnny’s delight - bloody lip and nose, wincing as he did so. 

“To T.J.. Twice, actually,” Johnny added. “One was last night, and the other? Tell me Patrick, when was that?” 

With Mick present and having stepped a bit closer, Patrick seemed to feel a little more confident now, and Johnny wanted to laugh out loud at what a coward he was. He’d never known. 

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend yourself?”

In hindsight, Johnny should have anticipated that counter question, and he pondered for a short moment how to avoid having to disclose that T.J. had left, not wanting to give Patrick so much credit. 

“I’m asking you,” he simply said instead, taking a step closer towards Patrick and, with delight once more, saw him nearly flinch back again. 

“Halloween.” 

Ah. So that finally explained why T.J. had wanted to leave so suddenly, and Johnny cursed himself once more for not being more insistent that T.J. talk to him (and for dragging him somewhere he didn’t really want to go in the first place). 

“Really?” Mick asked, a little surprised and possibly, though Johnny wasn’t sure, even shocked. “Ohh... mate, not cool. Really.” 

“What the fuck, what business is this of yours, Mick? As if you’ve never done some illegal drugs just to have some fun. It’s not my problem that some people can’t handle it.” 

Johnny felt himself snapping, darting forward to punch Patrick in the face again, but Mick stepped between them, one hand outstretched to keep Johnny at distance, and even though it pissed him off beyond measure, it was probably for the best. 

Johnny had heard and done enough. 

“By the way, Patrick. I’ve read your contract, and I really don’t feel like being your marketing mascot. Mick, you can find me a different sponsor or I’m out of the whole thing.” 

Despite his obvious intimidation, Patrick did laugh out at that, his usual arrogance (and why had Johnny never wanted to see it this strongly before?) all over his features and in his tone. “Wow, you’re really more stupid than I thought,” he said, obviously trusting in his ‘bodyguard’, but out of Patrick’s line of vision, Mick’s gaze darkened. 

“You really think you can find someone else that easily? To provide the car and the whole team, do all the legal work and the funding? You’re just the driver, Johnny. The least relevant part. I can find a different driver in no time. You, buddy, have no team anymore.” 

“Patrick,” Mick said very slowly, admonishingly. “Just leave it there, alright? I’d hate for this flat to go up in flames.” Whether it was an attempt to lighten the mood with some humour or an actual possibility Mick was considering, Johnny wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care. 

He couldn’t deny that the prospect of burying his racing plans did hurt a little, but the satisfaction of not having to work with someone like Patrick, not after what he’d learned, was bigger than the disappointment. 

“Good luck finding a new driver,” Johnny said then, tone as even as he could muster but with just a tiny trace of sarcasm. Then he walked back out of the door, only looking back over his shoulder for a second to give Mick a brief nod goodbye.

When he got back home, Johnny felt, for the lack of a better word, empty. There was relief, too, the absence of a burden that working with and for Patrick would have entailed. But that wasn’t all, and it was the absence of anger that made him feel the loss, temporary as it may be, of T.J. even more deeply than before. 

Again, same as earlier, he thought about texting him, about telling him what he’d just done, but then again, what it all boiled down to was that he had done it for himself, most of all, and ‘I punched the guy that offered drugs to you, please come back’ would hardly work anyway. Sitting here moping over this - possibly for several days to come or longer - was hardly better, though. The only problem was, Johnny simply did not know what to do with himself, and that kinda was a first. 

Johnny usually always had plans, or he was fine doing nothing in particular and relax. Right now, neither seeking out an activity nor lounging on the sofa and watching TV seemed appealing to him though, and so he once more found himself just staring at nothing in particular, wondering what the fuck to do with his time. And what to do about that dull, heavy ache in his stomach every time his memory betrayed him for a split-second, and he wanted to ask T.J. something, only to realise he wasn’t here. 

It was Mick who pulled him out of his lethargy about an hour later.

_ ‘Are you alright, mate?’ _ he texted and, just half a minute later as Johnny was pondering his response,  _ ‘I know what happened with Trish last night.’ _

So Johnny did tell him after all. It would be hard to keep this from him indefinitely, anyway, and unlike Trish, Johnny was pretty sure confiding in Mick would not result in any making out. He didn’t go into any details, both too lazy to type it all out and not really thinking Mick might be the best conversational partner to have such a talk with. He briefly wondered whether he should call Sue or Jared, but he didn’t exactly  _ feel _ like talking about it in great detail anyway. What should they even tell him other than trying to boost his confidence and tell him to just wait?

_ There’s a place called Joe’s pub two streets down from my hotel. Meet you there in 30? Drinks are on me. _

Maybe this was just what he needed today after all. 

~*~

“I’m really sorry, mate,” Mick was saying, patting Johnny on the shoulder again and squeezing it lightly. They were on their second beer, not really having talked that much about T.J. during the first, but eventually the topic had shifted from irrelevant stuff to the real issues. “That’s a bloody mess you’ve been put in.” 

“You don’t say,” Johnny repeated, not having enough energy to correct Mick on the part where he had  _ been _ put into it instead of putting himself in it. And it was a mix of both, really. 

“But there’s always light at the end of the tunnel,” Mick continued, smiling sympathetically at him. “You’re still young, and if this is what you do now… actual relationships I mean, then I’m sure you’ll find someone again. Trish really cares about you, you know?”

Johnny looked at him in confusion, not really getting why Mick was saying this. “What the hell Mick? Why the fuck should I be thinking of someone new, and Trish of all people.” Who was part of the reason things with T.J. had gone down the drain, in the first place. 

“I’m just saying.” Mick lifted his hands in a (not genuinely) apologetic gesture. 

“You’re just saying what?” Johnny wanted to know, still not understanding how Mick had gotten to this topic now from everything he’d told him before. 

Mick shrugged lightly. “That you should maybe focus on things that are good for you? And Trish is sweet. She’s gorgeous and funny, and you share the same interests.” 

“Yeah, but I’m with T.J., so shut up about Trish!” Johnny cut him off, irritated. 

“But T.J. broke up with you,” Mick replied, his tone rather gentle and concerned for his standards. 

“No, he did not! What the fuck? Weren’t you listening? He needs a break, that’s all.” 

Mick’s brows went up for the fraction of a second, and Johnny already thought that he had simply misunderstood him, was going to correct his own words and let it go. But Mick’s gaze turned a little more sympathetic then, head titled softly. “You know what that usually means, don’t you? A break is as good as an end most of the times.” 

“Wow.” Johnny let out a sarcastic chuckle, shaking his head before he took a small sip of his beer. “You know, you could try being a little more supportive and optimistic here,” he said testily, trying to shut up the part in him that started to fear Mick may be right. 

“I’m being realistic.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re pessimistic,” Johnny fought back, determined not to give in to that fear and hold on to what T.J. had promised him instead. “He just needs some time to himself. To get his mind off of stuff that stressed him out. But that’s all. He made it very clear that he’s  _ not _ breaking up w-- Wait.” Johnny regarded Mick for a second as another thought occurred to him, going over the words he’d just heard. “Are you… are you actually pleased about this? Do you  _ want _ me to be with Trish instead of T.J., is that what this is about?” 

Mick let out a small sigh and shrugged. “Well, mate, I don't know. Of course I want what’s best for you, but… This whole gay thing isn't really you, is it?" 

"What the fuck do you mean, gay thing?” Johnny’s voice had risen significantly, and he didn’t care that the people at the next table were looking at them now. He was really starting to get very pissed off. “We've been together for over two years. We  _ live _ together. We’ve built a life together and you're saying this like it’s… like it's just some kind of phase?? Fuck you, Mick! I love T.J., and I want him back. I'm not gonna give up on that just because you think me and Trish would make a cute couple." 

Again, Mick lifted his hands in surrender, but Johnny was starting to think he never really meant that. "Alright mate, whatever you say. I’m just concerned for you, is all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Johnny said, annoyed. “And I told you to keep your concern to yourself and stay out of it.” 

“But that was before this happened,” Mick replied, and he definitely wasn’t going to let it go this time. “Look, all I'm saying is that if you wanted someone with less heavy baggage, Trish really is interested. She's hot and she's sweet and she's known you for years. She--"

"She doesn't know me!” Johnny shot back, nearly shouting now. “Don’t you get it? Trish and I spent a bit of time together, ages ago. She doesn't know me nearly as well as any of the people I can call my friends. And come to think of it, it seems like you don't know me at all either." 

“Maybe I don’t,” Mick admitted. “I just don’t really understand… You’ve never been like this. Serious dating, and with a bloke of all things. It didn’t seem like you.”

“People change, Mick. And yeah, I figured something out about myself that I didn’t know before. But that’s none of your fucking business, and nothing you need to understand and most of all approve of. So just shut the fuck up already!”

Mick was quiet, but he made no move to get up and leave, or defend himself any further. It seemed to Johnny like he was seriously pondering their conversation, and while he was angry at him, he’d also like to think it had been ignorance and lack of understanding that had made Mick say all these things, not any malintent. 

“You know, I should punch you, too,” Johnny said after what must have been minutes of silence between them. 

There was a small smirk on Mick’s lips as he looked over at him. “If that makes you feel any better go right ahead. But aim for the right side. You’ve got a mean right hook there, and I just got new dental crowns.” 

That made Johnny snort softly and the not actually serious wish to do just that faded somewhat. 

“Sorry mate,” Mick continued. “For being an utter tosser.” 

“You were. Are,” Johnny replied. 

“I suppose I just never really got it. How you could’ve changed so much in such a short time.”

“It wasn’t a short time, Mick. We haven’t really seen each other in years, and I wasn’t exactly the same guy I was… what was it? Ten years ago? I haven’t been that guy for ages. I grew out of it. Guess that’s what being a superhero does to you.” 

The little smirk, turning into a bit of a grin, was back on Mick’s features. “What? Those cosmic rays turn you gay, too?” 

“Oh my God,” Johnny groaned out, feeling like letting his head bang forward onto the table surface but refraining from doing so after all. “That’s… that’s not how it works.”

“I  _ was _ joking,” Mick said, and Johnny let out a small sigh anyway. “How does it work, though?” 

That question made Johnny turn his head, brows raised slightly. “Oh my God, please don’t tell me this is where I explain to you how I figured it all out and you tell me you have a late in life identity crisis. I can only handle one old friend making a move on me in twenty-four hours, not two.” 

“God no,” Mick replied, his eyes slightly wide. “No. I’d rather toss off by myself for the rest of my life than that.” He let out a small laugh, before his expression turned more serious again. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Well, first of, you don’t have to understand it,” Johnny said, inclined to enlighten him nonetheless. Maybe it was a good thing they finally had that talk, though, despite their age gap, it made Johnny feel like an adult talking to a teenager. Maybe not all people changed significantly and grew up. “But if you want to know, the thing is I didn’t really understand it at first, either. It just happened, and it was good. It felt right, and that was that for me. I never really questioned it because why should I?”

“So… you’re saying this could happen to anyone?” Mick asked, and it was nearly hilarious how frightened he sounded at the prospect. 

Johnny shrugged, deciding to let him hang there for a moment longer. “Maybe it could. I don’t know. But you know, T.J. once said there’s this theory that sexuality is like, like a normal distribution in statistics, you know? With a higher density somewhere in the middle and only a few results at the extreme ends. Like a bell curve.”

Mick’s brow was furrowed slightly, his mouth hanging open a bit before he made a grimace and shook his head. “Do I look like a bloody mathematician to you?”  

Johnny laughed softly, trying to find a simpler explanation. “Uh, okay, it’s like a spectrum. You’re either drawn to women or to men, or something in between. And I guess most people who are somewhere on the opposite end of the spectrum stick to that because… yeah, because it’s easier and because of all those social norms and stuff. It’s easier just being straight and telling yourself so if that’s worked out great for you all this time. But I suppose I was never  _ completely _ at the one end of the scale, or else I wouldn’t have been attracted to T.J. Kinda explains my obsession with Han Solo when I was younger.” 

That made Mick snigger softly. 

“Or, like when dudes say they’re gay for Oberyn Martell but actually would never really want to be with a guy. I guess those are somewhere closer towards the end of the spectrum. And I was just an inch more towards the middle. Whatever.”

Mick nodded slowly before he took a long gulp of his beer, visibly contemplating what he’d heard. “Alright,” he said finally. “You had me at Oberyn Martell.” 

It was a joke again, Johnny saw through it this much. But he was glad Mick was at least making an effort to understand him, and not being judgemental about it after all. 

They drank their beers in companionable silence for a while, watching the other patrons in the bar while Johnny’s thoughts drifted to other places again. Within the past twenty-four hours, pretty much everything in his life had been turned upside down. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but he’d always come out of it, not always unscathed but never so damaged that he’d lost his confidence and optimism. And he’d be damned if it should be different this time. It wouldn’t, as long as he didn’t lose T.J. What did leave a bit of a bitter taste in his mouth was that the opportunity to race again was pretty much fucked beyond repair now, and it was only then that he realised all of this - his actions this morning, too - might have caused more damage than he’d even thought of. 

He turned his head towards Mick, a sudden stab of guilty conscience in his middle. “So what about you? Is Patrick pissed at you too or… are you two good?” 

Mick let out a small snorted chuckle. “A little, maybe. But he’ll get over it. We’re business partners, after all. At least in the club and a few other investments. The racing plans, though… Well. That’s pretty much dead now. You know it was a bluff when he said he could easily find a new driver, don’t you?” 

It didn’t help to relieve his conscience, but Mick squeezed his shoulder roughly and shrugged. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Johnny boy. There’ll always be something new for me. It’s just a shame it didn’t work out for you. But I get it. Come to think of it, that contract he drafted for you was a bit rubbish.”

“A bit?” Johnny asked, slightly sarcastic, but finding himself not really caring about it any longer. 

“Alright. Big pile of rubbish. I’d have brought a few points up on Wednesday,” Mick acknowledged, and Johnny was glad for it. “But no matter. Lets me off the hook too, and I’ve been dying to fly back to England. At least over the holidays.” 

“So you’re going back then?” Johnny wanted to know, and Mick nodded, emptying his beer and waving to the barkeep for two more. 

“I’m flying back to Manchester on Friday.”

So that was that. This brief episode in his life was going to be over, and it left Johnny with a slightly bittersweet sense of regret because, despite having enjoyed a lot of the past two months, it left him with nothing positive to gain from it, nothing that was worth the price. This year would be over in less than two weeks, and in all likelihood, he’d spend the last days of it (or most of them) in a state of uncertainty. 

Maybe, despite the understanding they had reached and the friendship they still shared, it really was for the best that Mick left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm curious what you think of Mick. Please let me know (I so love discussing my original characters)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry for not yet having replied to your comments. I did read and enjoy them a lot, but I had a REALLY busy week, including having to work on Saturday because my co-worker got sick and my boss is still on holiday. But I will get back to you soon, promise!   
> Anyway, here's the next chapter for you. Hope you'll enjoy it.

When Johnny was eighteen years old, he’d been in love, properly in love, for the first time in his life. Of course he’d had crushes before, but none of them had measured up to the intensity of feelings he’d had for Lauren Peterson. She was beautiful, with long, dark brown hair that fell over her shoulders in soft waves, blue eyes that were darker than his own, big and framed by thick, long lashes, and that was what had drawn him in at first. But aside from being beautiful, she was also smart and funny with both a gentleness to her and a sharp wit that had pulled him in properly, and way too deep. 

Of course, having been a teenager and experiencing all his emotions tenfold, this image might be skewed, but it had been real for him then, more real and deep than he’d ever thought possible, and all the more devastating when she broke up with him, just a week before prom because she’d realised she had feelings for somebody else, and that they were never really cut out to be together anyway. 

Johnny had never felt so miserable because of a girl before, and he never had again after that. And although he wasn’t quite the type to let a great disappointment hinder his future happiness, he  _ had _ sometimes wondered whether she hadn’t left a negative impact on him after all. 

While years had put things into perspective, had washed out the memory of the intense, consuming feelings in his chest and gut every time he had looked at her, he knew it had been the most he’d ever been in love with someone. 

Until T.J. 

Everything had changed when he had met him, and while he had thought, for many years, that nobody could possibly be more in love with anyone than he had been with Lauren, he had learned that there was much more beyond that line, much more in him and  _ for _ him. It should have been frightening, but Johnny had loved every second of it - except for the short phase in which it had looked like history was going to repeat itself and he would have had his heart broken for the second time in his life. He hadn’t given up, though, not this time, and it had proven to be the best thing he’d ever done. To fight for T.J. and for a relationship he hadn’t even known he needed, wanted more than anything before. 

Somewhere throughout the past two months he had let it slip out of his hands, had, when disappointment and anger got the better of him, forgotten just how much T.J. and their life together meant to him, and there wasn’t a day he didn’t regret that fact. 

Ever since T.J. had left, Johnny had spent a lot of time thinking about it all, replaying conversations and fights they’d had in his mind. It was a strange thing that he had felt in the right most of the time when those fights had occurred, but now didn’t, realisation hitting him so suddenly and so hard that he wondered how he could have missed it before. If only he’d been able to understand this sooner and act accordingly, he could have spared himself  _ and _ T.J. a lot of heartache. There were things he had said, things that had slipped out in anger that could not be justified, and he’d just been too stubborn and proud to admit his mistakes when it could have made a difference. 

Maybe, no, probably he’d still get a chance to do that, to apologise and truly make it up to T.J., but as the days wore on it became more and more unbearable waiting to be given that opportunity instead of seizing it himself. Waiting had never been his strong suit. 

All he could do was distract himself and hope the time T.J. needed would be over quickly. He met with Kyle and Adil for drinks one evening and went to the gym every morning. On December twenty-third he ran into Alex who was not going back home to Greece for Christmas. Alex tried to invite him for dinner with a couple of other friends, but after having talked to him for all but five minutes, Johnny suddenly realised that he  _ was _ , in fact, a bit of a douchebag. Bragging and pretentious, and definitely annoying, and Johnny wondered how he hadn’t seen this sooner. Why he hadn’t believed T.J. or at least tried to actually see what it was he had disliked about him and the others so much. But there was no use in thinking of the should-have-beens. 

Trish had contacted him too. Two days after the whole fiasco at the party, in fact. She had texted him and apologised profusely, even offered to talk to T.J. to explain it was her who had initiated things (and Johnny could have guessed that Mick had had a part in this, probably having told her of the result). All he’d done was text her back, thanking her for the apology but saying it was probably for the best if they didn’t hang out anymore. She was obviously still hung up on him for some reason, and keeping a friendship going on that basis really wasn’t a good idea. He was proud of himself then, of having made the right and mature decision instead of clinging on to something that tied him to his life before T.J.

When Christmas Eve came, Johnny could not have been less enthusiastic about it, feeling none of that ‘Christmas spirit’ this year even with the beautiful and classy decorations at the Baxter Building, with Christmas music playing in the background, candles everywhere and little Frankie crawling around underneath the Christmas tree and playing with the colourful bows and bands, not yet grasping the concept of presents and that some of them were for him to be opened next morning. There was a gift Johnny had bought weeks ago and hidden in their apartment. He had actually put a lot of thought into it, had googled the best jazz pianists of all times and gone to a small record store to buy an Art Tatum album and, with the help of the clerk, chased down an autographed copy of sheet music from the 30s. And now it sat in a big plastic bag with an old sweater on top to hide it, and T.J. would not get to unwrap it this Christmas. When that thought came to him and didn’t leave him for the better part of the evening, it was the lowest Johnny felt since the day T.J. left. 

Sue obviously sensed it and did her best to cheer him up. She kept the conversation at the table going around entertaining subjects and steering far, far away from anything relationship-related. Johnny did manage to enjoy himself - it wasn’t like he was brooding and suffering the entire time - but it just didn’t feel the same, didn’t feel complete without T.J. by his side. 

It was after dinner when Sue and Reed were clearing the table and Alicia went to finish the dessert she had prepared for the group that Johnny couldn’t take this complete absence of contact any longer. 

_ Merry Christmas. I hope you’re doing okay. I miss you.  _

When he sent the text message, his heart started beating rapidly in his chest. From nerves and hope at the same time. 

It only took a minute or even less until the phone chimed, and Johnny read T.J.’s message with baited breath. 

_ Thanks. Merry Christmas to you too. I’m okay _ _   
_ _ I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I still need some time.  _

Johnny had hoped for something different, for something more, an ‘ _ I miss you too _ ’ or ‘ _ I’m coming home for New Year’s _ ’. Reading these words instead made him feel even heavier around the chest, so much that he nearly wished he hadn’t sent his text in the first place. He suddenly remembered what Mick had said, that a pause was just the beginning of the end, and that fear struck him hard this time.

_ Okay. I understand. Have a good time though. _

He texted back, pushing that fear to the back of his mind with all resolve he could muster. All he could do was wait. 

 

~*~

Johnny was glad when Christmas was finally over, and that was a first in his life, as far as he could remember. He just couldn’t have stood hearing ‘Please Come Home for Christmas’ or any of the other melancholy, stupidly romantic Christmas songs on the radio one more time. With more distraction (clearing out his side of the closet and giving things away for charity, reorganising the kitchen shelves and cupboards, babysitting Frankie and hanging out with Jared playing playstation one afternoon) he got through the days rather well, and, faster than he’d have thought, New Year’s Eve came. 

He was spending it at Nicky and Jared’s with just a small group of friends they had invited: Karen, Adil, Kyle, Vera and Pete, and Andy from the gym, who, surprisingly for someone who lived in New York city, had had no plans yet and nowhere else to go, so Johnny had asked if he could bring him. Vera and Pete left sometime after the fondue to go  to another party they had been invited to, and with Andy spontaneously tagging along it was only the core of their group that was left, even way before midnight.

Johnny was sitting on the couch next to Nicky, Jared on her other side and Kyle in the armchair while Adil and Karen had gone to the kitchen to clean up. Nicky had her feet on a throw pillow on the coffee table, complaining about how they started to swell up these days with her pregnancy having progressed. She had started to show, too, one hand protectively on the small bump that she showed off proudly underneath a tight red knitted dress. 

“Is the baby kicking yet?” Kyle wanted to know, eying the bump with curiosity, and Nicky’s face instantly lit up. 

“It did the other day, actually. Was the first time I felt it,” she said, pride and joy clearly audible in her voice and visible on her face, same as in that of the father-to-be. 

“Wow,” Kyle said. “That is so weird. I mean that’s basically like an alien growing inside of you. That is just so weird.” 

Johnny snorted a laugh, shaking his head softly while Nicky only stared him down. “Thanks for making something as natural as a pregnancy sound creepy, Kyle.” 

“No, I mean… not like an  _ Alien _ alien, just, well, kinda like it. You know what I’m saying?” 

“Err, I’m afraid not, buddy,” Jared said, but all in good humour. “You’re not making any sense.” 

Kyle shrugged softly and took another swig from his beer bottle. Out of the six of them here, he had probably drunk the most. Then he looked at the expecting parents again, his gaze going from Nicky to Jared and back again several times. “You know, I think it’s going to be really beautiful,” he said, as if that was a thought that only occurred to him and nobody else. “You think it’ll have Jared’s blue eyes? His eyes and Nicky’s skin. He’ll look like Jesse Williams. Wow.” 

That prompted more chuckles from the three on the couch, though, even despite the fact that something like genetics couldn’t be predicted, Kyle did have a point. 

“Or like  _ Vanessa _ Williams,” Johnny added as the face had popped up in his mind, and his brow furrowed a second later. “Are they related?”

Nicky turned to look at him. “Vanessa Williams and Jesse Williams?” 

“Is she his mom?” Kyle asked and Nicky gave him one of those mock-serious stares again. 

“What? Just because they’re both black and have blue eyes?” 

“No. Because they have the same surname,” Kyle replied dead serious, obviously not seeing through Nicky’s teasing, and Johnny was quietly cracking up until he couldn’t hold it in any longer when Jared broke out in giggles. 

Johnny was curious now, though, and so he googled and announced a moment later, “They’re not related. Pure coincidence.”

Kyle actually looked disappointed. 

“It’s going to be a  _ Vanessa _ Williams, if at all,” Nicky said after a moment, her hand automatically caressing her baby bump and then, when they all could anticipate Kyle taking that literally again, added, “Well, we’re not naming her Vanessa, but it’s a girl.” 

“Oh wow, that’s great,” Johnny said, though it was a little pointless since he knew they’d have been just as happy about a boy.

“Why aren’t we naming her Vanessa, though?” Jared asked. “I’d put the name on the list.”

“Hm, okay. Maybe we will,” Nicky amended. 

“Just, whatever you do, don’t name her Apple or… Pilot Inspector,” Johnny said, and, as expected everyone gave him really confused looks at the latter. 

“Who the fuck names their kid Pilot Inspector?” Jared asked incredulously. 

“Jason Lee, apparently,” Johnny replied, a bit proud of himself for remembering that after having read it somewhere ages ago. 

“Yeah, no, don’t worry. We’re not going to give our kid a weird name,” Nicky said. “Besides, only white people do that sort of nonsense.” 

“Err, honey? East and Saint? Blanket?” Jared said, brows lifted and grin widening as he looked at his wife in mild triumph. 

“Okay,” Nicky sighed. “Point taken. Then… only pretentious celebrities do that shit. No actually, white people give their kids much more ridiculous names sometimes. Remember that poor baby called Hashtag? Or that whole list of ridiculous baby names we found last week? What was it? Ninja Quest, and Quest was spelled Q-W?” 

“Oh my god, are you serious?” Johnny asked, “Hashtag? Seriously?”

Kyle hadn’t caught on to their current topic, though. He was looking around the room as if he were searching something, and the rest of them soon found out what. “Blanket,” he muttered. “How about Bookshelf? Ceiling Lamp? Doorframe! Carpet! Beer bottle! Virgin Caipirinha.” 

“That actually sounds like a name some redneck from Mississippi would give their kid,” Jared said, laughing. “Though it’s your favourite drink. It’d make sense.” 

“Oh please. No pretentious celebrity names and no stupid redneck names either. We’ll name her something nice and normal that won’t give her a hard time at school. Though… perhaps Ebony Darkness Dementia Raven?”

“Where the hell did that just come from?” Jared asked, and Nicky grinned at him, shrugging softly. 

“Right. I forgot you never read fanfiction.” 

Kyle had pulled his phone out and was probably browsing ridiculous names, giggling softly to himself now, totally engrossed by it as Jared excused himself to go to the bathroom. And while the topic had been hilarious and entertaining, Johnny couldn’t quite help the vague sense of melancholy that settled in him after a while of silence. 

“Hey, you okay?” Nicky asked, squeezing his upper arm lightly. 

Johnny looked at her and gave her a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… I dunno. You and Jared are married and having a baby, and I… Maybe I’m back at square one.” 

“Aww, don’t say that. I’m sure he’ll come around,” she said, quenching that doubtful, worried feeling in Johnny’s gut just a little. 

“You want a baby?” Kyle perked up, his attention drawn from whatever he was reading on his phone. “But you can’t have a baby. You’re a dude! Or… would T.J. be the one having the baby?” he asked before he seemed to realise what that question implied and added, “And that’s kinda none of my business.” 

It made Johnny chuckle despite everything. “Wow, Kyle. Lay off the weed.” 

“I didn’t smoke any. I didn’t do pot for, like, two years,” Kyle replied as if it hadn’t just been a joke again. 

“He’s stoned by nature,” Jared said who’d just come back into the living room, catching the last bits of their conversation. 

It was then that Johnny realised how long it had been since the other two had vanished into the kitchen. “Where the hell are Karen and Adil anyway? Are they cleaning your entire kitchen from bottom to top?” 

Jared exchanged a brief glance with Nicky, who shrugged while he gave her a minuscule nod, and Johnny wondered what the hell that was about, until Nicky spoke up again. 

“Yeah, uh… about that. They didn’t want to rub it into your face.” 

It took a moment until Johnny understood what she meant, and it was a weird sense of mixed annoyance and delight that hit him then, and he both laughed out and rolled his eyes. “Seriously? They didn’t want to rub-- Oh that’s ridiculous! And when the fuck did that happen anyway?” 

“Just before Christmas, apparently. And it was about time,” Nicky replied, though Johnny was still a bit surprised, never having seen this coming. Sure, Adil and Karen had always gotten along well, but so had everyone in their clique. 

“Wow. So you’re saying Kyle and I are the only ones who are, well, not exactly single but without a partner here? That’s just awesome.” 

“Hey Johnny? I love you, you know that,” Kyle said and Johnny raised his brows at him, “But not in a I’d have your baby kind of way. No homo.” 

“Yeah Kyle. I know,” Johnny replied dryly. “No homo.” 

Kyle gave him the thumbs up and Johnny rolled his eyes at him. 

“I was joking, you know?” Kyle added then. “I know that was sarcasm when you said it was great. I’m not as dumb as I look.” 

And that, especially with his slightly slurred speech, had Jared and Nicky in stitches. 

“Come on dude, let’s move this party to the kitchen,” Jared said to Kyle after having calmed down. “Adil and Karen have made out enough, and we can prepare the midnight drinks and snacks.”

“Yay, snacks!” Kyle said and jumped up, following Jared into the kitchen. 

Johnny, albeit amused, turned quiet again, his thoughts once more revolving around T.J., and suddenly he missed him painfully again, hiding the sigh that automatically left him as he leaned forward to pick up his own beer bottle again. 

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” Nicky said gently. “I’m really sure he just needs time as he said and will come back eventually.” 

“Are you? Because, damn, I want to believe that and most of the time I do, but… what if he won’t?” Johnny admitted. “What if this whole crisis revealed that we’re not that compatible after all? I mean, shouldn’t disagreements be okay in a relationship and  _ not _ end in your partner needing a break?” He was fishing for words to put in what he was fearing, that his rediscovered interests and everything else that had happened over the past two months just brought something to the surface that had been there all along, them being too different deep down after all to function as a couple in the long run. “What if I’m a werewolf and he’s a vampire and this whole mess is the reason why the two never date?”  

It had sounded better in his head, he realised as soon as the words were out and Nicky let out a short, breathy chuckle. “You’re not a werewolf. You’re an idiot.”

“I hear that a lot lately.” Sue hadn’t said those exact words, but it had swung between the lines on several occasions. 

“Rightly so. Plus, who says werewolves and vampires can’t date? I’m pretty sure the ending of Twilight suggested that Jacob and Renesme would be a thing eventually.” 

“And we’re back at weird baby names,” Johnny said, wincing at the mention of the story, though he had never read the books or seen more than parts of the movies. But the internet had been all over this a few years ago. “Also, gross. Don’t you hate those movies?”

“I do,” Nicky replied. “I was just trying to lighten the mood. Okay, then… Underworld?”

“Well okay. But he’s a hybrid.”

“Yeah, never mind that. Back to actual-you and T.J.,” she said, turning around a little and laying a hand on his lower arm. “Seriously, you two have always been so great with each other. And every couple has a crisis at some point. Jared and I once nearly broke up too.” 

“Really? When was that?” Johnny asked, surprised. 

“Uh, I think that was just about the time you started seeing T.J.? You were busy and we didn’t hang out that much, and well, it only lasted for about a week or two. But I went to visit Anna and Lily in Chicago for a week, just to clear my head. And that helped. When I got back, we talked about a lot of stuff, and after that we’ve been going stronger since ever.” 

It did help to hear this, and Johnny’s optimism tentatively returned to him. Though, with nearly two weeks past now the uncertainty grew with every day. 

“Did Jared stay in touch with you while you were gone?” 

“Oh yeah. He texted me a few times.”

“And… that was okay for you? No added pressure or anything?” Johnny wanted to know, because he was dying to get in touch with T.J., but wasn’t sure that’d be a smart move, especially after T.J. had told him he still needed some time. 

“It wasn’t daily, and Jared made sure not to pressure me with what he wrote. So it really depends a lot on what you say, I guess,” Nicky replied. “But… I don’t know for sure, but I’d think sending the signal that you’re still in this and want to make it work while also respecting T.J.’s choices can’t do any harm.” 

“Hm…” Johnny was about to take his phone out, already pondering a message, but the other four came out of the kitchen then, a tray with snacks and champagne glasses in Karen’s hands and two big bottles in Jared’s. 

“Okay guys, five minutes to Midnight. Balcony or should we go up to the roof?” Jared asked. 

“The roof!” Kyle exclaimed and everyone else seemed to share the sentiment. And so, whatever Johnny could have texted T.J., had to be postponed to later. 

They took the elevator to the top floor and then the stairs onto the roof, finding other neighbours from the house there already. Adil opened the champagne and filled the glasses now with Jared’s help, while Nicky poured herself some orange juice. Soon, some smaller, early fireworks were already going off in the distance as the people on the roof were starting the countdown, cheering loudly as they hit zero and the sky erupted in a sea of colourful lights and sparkles. 

“Happy new year!” Nicky was the first to tell Johnny, clinking her glass against his, before Jared was at her side and kissed her. Adil and Karen kissed too, letting it last much longer, as couples who’d just gotten together did. 

Kyle looked at Johnny with a sympathetic glance and a half-smile. “You know, if it makes you feel better I’d be totally cool with a bro-kiss.” 

It made Johnny snort, amused and grateful for the company he could enjoy tonight. He grabbed Kyle around the shoulder with one arm and pressed a noisy, wet kiss to his cheek, laughing as Kyle wiped it with one hand and a slightly pained expression on his face that he paired with a friendly smile. 

A few of the neighbours came round and started talking to Nicky and Jared and their guests while the fireworks were still going on around them, prompting ‘oohs’ and ‘aaah’s from the onlookers. Johnny took a step back, closer towards the balustrade and pulled his phone out of his pocket. If he was doing this, now was the best moment. 

_ Hey, I just wanted to wish you a happy new year. Hope you’re having a good time _

He hoped it was general and non-pressuring enough, though he’d have liked to add ‘I miss you’ or ‘I’m thinking of you’, but maybe that’d have been counter-productive. God, he hated this so much. 

He already thought T.J. was not going to reply, already fearing he had overstepped with the message and not respected T.J.’s boundaries, when, about two minutes later, his phone chimed at last, and Johnny went to open the message with a quickly beating heart. 

_ Hey, I was just going to write you the same. I am. I’m at a party with Ella. Happy New Year Johnny. Hope you’re having a good time too. _

And that, while still somewhat distant, was so much more than he could have hoped for, and it felt like a huge weight was being lifted from Johnny’s shoulders. He breathed in the cold night air, two, three deep breaths that came out with a relieved smile. And it was with much more confidence when he wrote back. 

_ I’m at Nicky and Jared’s and Kyle is hilariously drunk so yeah we’re having a good time here _

Johnny ached to keep the conversation going, already wondering whether this would have been it when no reply came for another few minutes. But he didn’t quite know how. This was a start. T.J. had wanted to message him, too, and that meant he was thinking of him in a moment like the start of the new year, which made it a lot more bearable that they weren’t physically together for it. 

_ Want to hear the latest gossip? _

He texted after a while, because that surely was okay and not putting any pressure on T.J., he hoped. 

_ Tell me.  _

_ Karen and Adil are dating. _ _   
_ _ They’ve been making out like teenagers since the stroke of midnight. _

_ Wow. That’s not something I saw coming.  _

_ I know right? Me neither. _

_ But good for them. Say hi to everybody from me. _

_ Will do. Say hi to Ella. And have a great time! _

_ Thanks. I’ll tell her.  _

And that was probably it, Johnny thought,  but it had to be enough for the moment. 

Nicky had come up behind him, her coat pulled around her tightly, and there was a warm, wide smile on her lips. “Was that T.J.?”

“Yeah,” Johnny replied, feeling a similar smile on his own lips while something in his chest was still aching so bad. “He says hi.” 

“See? That’s good. You just need a little patience, and all will turn out fine in the end.”

Johnny nodded, about to go back to the rest of the group with her when his phone chimed once more. 

_ So, how are you anyway?  _

Johnny had already said that he was having a good time, but this question clearly meant something deeper than that, and he wasn’t sure what to respond. No pressure was starting to look rather difficult. 

_ Do you want the honest or diplomatic answer? _

_ Honest. _

Johnny had to ponder how honest he could be, nevertheless. 

_ I’m okay but not great. I miss you like hell.  _

He could see that the message hadn’t been read yet, and maybe T.J. had been distracted by someone else or called by his family. And so Johnny took the time and his current stroke of courage to add something more. 

_ Look, if you need more time I respect that but there’s something I want you to know. I fucked up. I was condescending, self-centered and unobservant and for that I am really really sorry. But I’ve learned my lesson and I swear if you give me another chance I’m going to make it up to you and try hard not to be any of those things anymore _

_ I don’t want to lose you  _

Johnny pressed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath and holding it in for a moment. The fireworks had died down around him, but he could still hear them with lesser frequency. Maybe this last message had been too much, but maybe not? He didn’t know whether T.J. had actually been aware of it, of Johnny realising his errors, of wanting to work on making things better in the future. If he hadn’t, then that could have influenced his decisions negatively, all for Johnny not having made himself clear enough, and he definitely didn’t want to risk that. But maybe he should have been a bit more careful, should have left it til tomorrow and--

His phone rang in his hand and his heart almost stood still. 

A breathless ‘hi’ was all he got out when he accepted the call. 

“Hi,” T.J. said on the other end. “I miss you too.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, apologies for not having replied to your comments yet. I'll do it, for sure, but I've been rather stressed lately. Hope you all enjoy the next chapter. :)

 

They talked for over an hour that night. Jared, Nicky and the others had gone back into the apartment but Johnny had stayed behind on the roof, not wanting to miss the chance to talk to T.J. for anything in the world. To say they talked about everything would have been an overstatement, but they did get a lot of it out of the way. Johnny told T.J. how much he had been thinking about everything lately and realised what a dick he’d been; he apologised for many things without T.J. having to bring them up first, and he was surprised at how easy that suddenly felt. T.J., in return, admitted he should have talked to Johnny openly much sooner, and it felt so damn good to hear him say that, not because Johnny wanted to feel in the right about some things but because it meant T.J. didn’t blame everything on Johnny alone and there was a good chance they’d fix this. That they’d understand each other better in future and try to pay more attention to each other. 

Listening to T.J.’s voice again after almost two weeks felt amazing, and at some point Johnny’s own voice felt thick, the longing to wrap T.J. in his arms and hold him making it hard for words to come out. But that probably had to wait a little bit longer. 

T.J. said he still needed some more time for himself, and while Johnny wished it could be different, he  _ was _ going to respect that. It sounded like this was important for T.J., and he told Johnny a lot about what he’d been doing lately aside from spending time with his family and old friends. He had seen an old therapist of his and he had quit alcohol even though it had been hard, particularly on New Year’s with everyone else around him celebrating it with drinks, and it made Johnny realise with a pang of shock and guilt just how drastic this was for him. He should have tried to be more supportive, not admonish him for drinking as he had done so often. 

They did talk about mundane things too, about how they spent Christmas, about Karen and Adil, Nicky’s pregnancy and Ella’s friends, and it was only when Johnny heard T.J. shivering, teeth rattling as he spoke when he realised he must be standing outside, too, for way too long now already. Yet, it was the hardest thing to say goodbye to him then, but it was the promise that they’d stay in touch that made it a lot easier for Johnny. 

When he got back down, Kyle was spectacularly drunk, hiccuping loudly as he rattled on about ridiculous things customers had asked him at the store. Nicky and Adil were wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. While that scene was amusing it made Johnny wonder whether T.J. could even have that again, just getting drunk for shits and giggles and with no risk, and for the first time since he knew him it hit him that even though alcohol hadn’t been his main and most vicious vice he  _ had _ shown tendencies of a severe alcohol problem.  A lot of things would have to change in their daily lives once he came back. 

It was a few days later when Johnny thought about this again, and he read a lot about it on the internet, on full abstinence and moderation management, about the correlation between drug abuse and alcoholism and he decided then, whatever it would have to be for T.J. in the long run, the best thing would be for him not to be tempted. And so Johnny took two large cardboard boxes and put all their liquor and all the wine from the pantry into them to give them to Karen and Kyle. He only kept the beer he still had in the fridge to finish it before T.J. would return. 

It was that night when T.J. called Johnny again for the first time since New Year’s; they had exchanged a few texts since then, mostly with little details of their day or a funny thing they had read online, and that sense of normality had been great, too. Hearing T.J.’s voice, however, was so, so much better. 

He was still at Ella’s in Baltimore, but he’d go back to Washington the next day to visit his grandma and have another therapy session. Johnny could sense he wasn’t that comfortable talking about it, and that, too, would probably take a while to change. 

“So, I hope you’re not outside again this time,” Johnny said after a few seconds of silence on either end, and to his delight he could hear T.J. chuckle softly. 

“No, I’m in the bedroom. Ella’s watching TV.” 

“Ah, that sounds better,” Johnny replied and then, with a streak of mirth, added, “Wait,  _ the _ bedroom? Wow, you’ve been sharing a bed with her this whole time?” 

“No, I’ve been sleeping on the couch,” T.J. replied, his tone somewhere between patient and exasperated and Johnny wasn’t sure whether it was with a trace of humour, too, or not. 

“Was that a bad joke? Sorry, I… that probably wasn’t the right thing to joke about.” 

“No, it’s fine.” He could hear a soft, amused huff escaping T.J. “But if I ever  _ did _ want to try it with a woman again Ella would be the one.”

“Wow, now that’s just payback and you’re trying to make me jealous,” Johnny replied, a laugh bubbling from his chest, feeling light and giddy over the fact that T.J.  _ was _ teasing him. Because this had been them, this had been normal, and he’d missed it so much. “Well if you are then I did deserve it, I guess.” 

“Hm… It wasn’t your fault though.” And that, hearing T.J. say it and sounding like he believed it, made the light feeling in Johnny’s chest become even stronger. 

“Well, maybe it kinda was. Maybe I could have seen it coming, I don’t know. But yeah, I really didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“I know,” T.J. replied earnestly, but there was also a hint of uncertainty in his next words. “So are you still seeing her sometimes now?” 

“No, that would stupid. Wouldn’t be fair to her. Or to you. Most of all you.” 

“Hm, to her not, maybe. But… if you never meant for anything to happen then I shouldn’t feel uncomfortable with you seeing her.” 

“Would you though?” Johnny wanted to know, feeling that this was important and not something to be swept under the rug again because it was purely theoretical. 

He heard T.J. sigh softly and there was a pause before he replied at last. “Yeah. I guess I would. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t but--” 

“No that’s okay. I get it,” Johnny interrupted him. “I’d probably feel the same.”

“But what does that say about us? That we don’t trust each other?” T.J. asked, sounding a little resigned for the first time during their phone call, and Johnny had to ponder it for a moment. 

“I dunno, but I don’t think it means that. You know, we aren’t robots who just go by what makes sense all of the time. So even if it doesn’t make sense, you shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable, and you should be able to trust me that I’ll avoid causing that. Which I’ve been doing a spectacularly poor job at lately.”

“Yeah. And I’ve been doing a poor job at not being uncomfortable with every small thing and turning it into a huge issue,” T.J. admitted, sounding rather self-critical. 

“Well, then let’s just agree,  _ again _ , that we’re both idiots?” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” T.J. replied with a small, sarcastic chuckle. “What about those races though? She’s gonna be there as well and I can’t ask you to avoid her then.”

“Uh, yeah, about that…” Johnny started, scratching his temple as he got up from the couch and started to walk around the living room. “That’s not going to happen for me anymore.” 

“What? But why?” T.J. sounded a little shocked, and Johnny shrugged automatically even if T.J. couldn’t see it. 

“Things changed.”

“But that didn’t have anything to do with me? I didn’t want you to give it up, I hope you didn’t think--”

“No, I didn’t,” Johnny continued. “And it’s okay, really. Patrick was a douchebag anyway and drew up a contract that would have made me his marketing puppet. And after punching him in the face I wasn’t exactly in his good books anymore anyway.” 

There was a short pause on the other end of the line, and when T.J. finally replied, Johnny could imagine his eyes wide with surprise. “You punched him in the face?” 

“Yeah, uh, I kinda didn’t want to tell you that,” Johnny admitted. He had thought it would have sounded like he was bragging with it, shoving it under T.J.’s nose to show him the lengths he’d gone to for him, but somehow it had felt alright to say it after all. 

“No, actually I want to hear it now,” T.J. said, and if Johnny wasn’t interpreting it wrong, there was just the tiniest trace of admiration or amusement in his tone, or both. 

“Okay, uh… I punched him right in the nose. He was bleeding. Fell on his ass, too.” 

“Wow that’s… I kinda really would’ve liked to see that,” T.J. said, and it made Johnny smile. “Why did you do it, though? And when?”

“Just a few hours after you left,” he replied, coming to a halt in the kitchen and leaning against the counter. “And why? Because he’s a fucking asshole. He offered cocaine to you? Twice? Who does that? And you should’ve seen the contract. I’d have been surprised if I’d even gotten a single cent out of those races at all. It was all just a marketing scheme for his own gain. Pretentious fuck. I should have listened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” T.J. said, again after a pause. “That it didn’t work out for you.” 

Johnny believed him; despite all his earlier doubts and the feeling that T.J. didn’t really approve of his racing ambitions, he did believe him. And that was worth a lot more than those races could have been, even while it still stung a bit that this opportunity had been destroyed. 

“Thanks,” he said softly. 

“There isn’t by any chance a video of this?” 

Johnny had to laugh again, shaking his head softly to himself. “No, unfortunately not. Mick was there, but he only came and saw when Patrick was already lying on the floor.” 

“And what did Mick say?” T.J. wanted to know. 

“Well, he tried to intervene. Didn’t want me to do any more damage. But he was kinda on my side about this,” he said, having just the smallest, neglectable feeling that talking about Mick was walking on thin ice. After all, it had been T.J. who brought him up. “He’s gone back to England now, though.” 

“Oh,” T.J. just said, remaining quiet again for a while. “So Patrick, Trish, Mick… that’s all over then? Gosh, Johnny, I’m so sorry. I--”

“No, no, please. It’s not your fault. Patrick  _ was _ a douchebag. I’m actually glad this is how it turned out. Not for what he did to you, of course, but that I could finally see what a dickhead he really was. And Trish? Well, okay, it’s kinda sad because I did like her. I do like her, but I’ve got other friends. Who are not trying to get into my pants despite me being in a relationship. So it’s all good,” Johnny said, hoping T.J. didn’t feel responsible for it any more. Because he had meant every word. “Come to think of it, though,” he went on to change the mood. “I’m not so sure about Kyle. He offered me a New Year’s kiss at midnight.” 

He could hear a soft snort from T.J., pleased to have reached the desired result. “God, Kyle. What a dork. I miss him.” 

“Yeah. He missed you too.” 

“And… what about Mick?” T.J. wanted to know then, and now it was going to get a little more difficult. Johnny knew they hadn’t quite gotten off on the right foot, and he understood why, to an extent. But same as T.J. should not have wanted Johnny to give up racing for him, he should not expect him to do the same with friends that actually meant something to him. Despite all the amends he was willing to make, maybe there were a few things he should take a stand for, but he had to go on about it the right way this time. 

“Okay, look. I know you didn’t really like him, and that’s fine. But Mick is my friend and I really want to keep it that way. I know he can be rude and a bit obnoxious, and I dunno if I’d become friends with him if I had gotten to know him today. But you have to understand that Mick did a lot for me in the past. He supported me when I wanted to race, and unlike Patrick he didn’t earn money from me, it was rather the opposite. So that means something, and I’m not going to forget it just because we both grew in different directions. I hope… I hope you can understand that.” 

He was almost holding his breath as he waited for T.J.’s reply. 

“Yeah, I can,” it finally came and Johnny released his breath in a relieved sigh. 

“Thank you. So… that means you’d be cool with me hanging out with him when he’s in town again?” 

“Yeah, I would. I will,” T.J. replied. “And if you want to invite him to a birthday party or something that’s fine. I don’t have the right to deny you that, and I’m sorry I was so… difficult.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Johnny said earnestly. After all, who knew what things would have looked like if it had only been Mick and not Patrick, Alex and the others, too. “I’m really glad, you know. And, I dunno if that’s too much to ask, but maybe you two can get along eventually too. Not that he’s going to be here often or anytime soon, but… yeah.” 

“Maybe,” T.J. replied, and it didn’t sound like an empty promise either. 

And that really was a great start. And even more so when they spent almost another hour on the phone after this, getting lost in talks about movies and other banalities until Ella came and kicked T.J. out of the bedroom and they took the opportunity to say goodnight too. For the first time in over two weeks, Johnny fell asleep completely at ease. 

 

~*~

“I think I really want to go back home.” 

“You think, or you’re sure?” 

His therapist’s question that stayed with T.J. all the way on his train ride back to Baltimore, and same as during the session, he still had no definite answer to it. He was feeling a lot better than when he had left, and although the first few days had been hell, he’d gotten through them, had progressed every day from there on. Of course, something like sliding back into depression and addictive behaviour couldn’t be reversed within two and a half weeks, and T.J. knew there was still quite a path ahead for him to get to where he had been in summer. At least, he had regained his confidence that it could be done, and the way he and Johnny had been talking to each other since New Year’s had made a significant contribution to it. 

But that sense of mutual understanding could be a fickle little thing. There were many things they’d finally been able to talk about, but there was still so much more left, some of it so deep within T.J.’s subconscious that he didn’t even know how to address it. Didn’t even know how to put it into words to himself, and he was worried that all of those little vicious doubts and fears would stand in the way of them patching things up properly. 

The thing was, while it had been good for him to get away from Johnny for a while, he also missed him. Missed him painfully and deeply every single day, so much that he had even lain awake the night after their last phone conversation, considering to take the first train or plane back the very next morning. But that would’ve been the easy way out, wouldn’t it? To give in to what he wanted in the here and now instead of questioning whether that was really what was good for him, what he needed. And figuring that out was the hardest thing to do in all of this process. 

Ella picked him up from the train station on her way home from school and they went to pick up a few groceries for dinner. Ella wanted to try a new recipe for a chicken stew, and so, after they’d prepared it together and put it on the stove to simmer, they sat down with a cup of coffee. Ella had a pile of exam sheets in front of her, but so far, it looked like she only meant to sort through them and leave grading them for later. 

“So how was therapy today?” 

“Uh, good,” T.J. replied, knowing she probably wanted to hear more, but he found it difficult to talk about it to anyone that  _ wasn’t _ his therapist. “We talked about when I might go back home.” 

Her brows rose slightly, a warm smile on her lips. “Really? And do you already have an idea?” 

T.J. shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I really want to, but… I just don’t know if everything’s fixed yet. Somehow feels too easy to be true.” 

“Hm.” She took a sip of her coffee and put the exams on the table in a neat pile. “Well, you’re the only one who can say when you’re ready.” 

T.J. had to let out a small, breathy chuckle. “That sounds pretty much like what my therapist said.” 

“Means I’m not wrong then,” Ella replied with a chuckle of her own. “About everything being fixed though, I’m not so sure it needs to be. At least not with the two of you apart.”

And that made sense too, of course T.J. knew that. He didn’t know what to say and took up his coffee cup instead, holding it in both hands and feeling its heat warm his fingers. It made him miss Johnny even more, his constant warmth and how, when he felt cold, he’d take his hands until T.J. could not feel the cold anymore. 

“I’ve been really awful to him sometimes,” he said then, the thought coming to him almost on its own accord rather than consciously on T.J.’s part. 

Ella gave him a sympathetic smile. “Well, that’s what happens in a crisis. And from what you told me he was awful to you, too.”

“Yeah he was,” T.J. replied, “But he apologised for so many things. I really don’t think he meant some of them the way they came out. It’s just that he’s hot-headed, you know? He’s the type of person who lets something slip out in anger and is too stubborn to apologise for it right away.” And that had hurt, and in a way it still did. That it had taken an escalation like this with T.J. leaving for Johnny to realise these things. 

But T.J. wasn’t innocent in all of this either. He had been too resentful and too critical of Johnny’s friends to compromise when it would have mattered, and most of all to be supportive. And even now he wasn’t sure he had done a good job at clearing this up, explaining himself why he hadn’t been able to do that when he should have. 

“Think he’s gonna work on that?” Ella wanted to know, and T.J. could only shrug again. 

“I hope so. I mean, he’s promised me he would.” T.J. should trust in Johnny to stay true to his promise, but he couldn’t shake the small fear in the back of his mind that he might forget all his good intentions when the next big disagreement would arise. And then, T.J. felt guilty for thinking this in the first place and not being able to simply trust Johnny one hundred percent. And it was all back in this circle of hope and doubt he’d been in the last few days. 

“Maybe it’s good it all happened as it did,” Ella said, offering a different kind of approach to this dilemma. “Sometimes people need a proper wakeup call to realise what they’ve been doing, and you said this was the first time you two ever were in such a situation. So Johnny actually never learned how to handle a fight with you.” 

That, too, was something his therapist had said as well. And maybe Ella was right in saying that he could only really know once they were together again, talking face to face and experiencing everyday life together again instead of just talking over the phone and text messages. 

“Look, I’m a teacher, so I know a thing or two about learning,” Ella went on, probably sensing that T.J. still wasn’t fully convinced. “There are kids that have a similar temperament as Johnny, who are also rash and stubborn, and they often have to learn things the hard way. If you’re supportive enough and don’t let them fail completely they get it eventually, and they start to change. You just have to give them something worth changing for and working on. I’m pretty sure the same thing applies to adults, too. And what else could be more worth working on than his relationship with you?” 

T.J. could only give her a smile in reply, grateful for her words and the way they pushed his own thoughts into a lighter, more positive direction. Maybe Johnny really wasn’t the problem in this anymore. The thing was just that T.J. had to trust himself to be open, to communicate things better in the future, and that was the only thing he still wasn’t so sure about. 

He went to see his family again over the weekend. His mom was still busy with work well into Friday night, and so he spent the evening with his dad, his grandma, Douglas, and Anne, but on Saturday, the entire Barrish-Hammond family was finally united. They sat together for coffee in the afternoon, but as so often, his mom couldn’t fully leave her work behind, talking about a new employee with Doug who was struggling to perform adequately after a bad breakup. 

“I mean, I’m really the last person who wouldn’t show understanding to personal problems,” his mom was saying as she sipped her coffee, “but this girl really has to pull herself together. Nobody asks me about my personal feelings either. In a world like this there’s no room for them. You either swallow your troubles and march on or you let them see your weakness and fail.” 

His dad agreed, shrugging regretfully but nodding then nevertheless. But his grandma looked back between her daughter and T.J., a knowing, understanding glance on her face. “I don’t think it’s always a weakness to let others see your troubles,” she said. 

T.J.’s mom rolled her eyes and let out a small sigh. “Of course it’s not, but in a professional environment the same rules don’t apply.” 

“They should, though,” his grandma replied. “We’re not talking about the minister of defense here or the secretary of state. That girl’s just an office assistant. What does she do? Make coffee and make photocopies, connect some calls? Just give the girl a break and most of all a chance.”

“I’m not saying I’m not giving her a chance,” his mom said, a little testily. 

“Well, you don’t very much sound like the opposite. From what you’ve been saying I could’ve guessed you were about to fire her.” 

“I’m not firing her.” 

“Good. Then show some humanity and stop acting like…” she was searching for words, a tiny albeit sarcastic chuckle coming over her lips, “like a badass bitch that never lets her feelings get in the way of anything.”

“Mother! Where the hell did that just come from?” his mom asked, affronted. Douglas snorted into his napkin while Anne visibly pressed her lips together. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” his grandma went on with a small shrug. “Maybe because you’ve been acting like it for a long time now. And that may be necessary as the president of the United States, but not in this family, not in front of your children. You don’t have to constantly remind us of your achievements and how much in control of your emotions and problems you are and how that makes you better than the people who can’t do that.”

His mom let out a slightly disbelieving laugh. “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m just talking about my day. And if that includes teaching a young woman that, in a world full of men, even with me as her boss, she can’t expect others to cater to her feelings, unfortunate as that may be, then I will talk about it. And I don’t understand why you feel the need to lecture me on this when you know--”

“Well, you should understand,” she interrupted her. “God knows I’ve made mistakes, too, but if not speaking up when something is awry is one of them I’ll be damned.” 

“Nothing is  _ awry _ ! I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” 

T.J. did, however. He knew perfectly well where his grandma was heading, and he appreciated it as much as it also made him feel somewhat embarrassed. Weak, once again, for needing someone to speak up for him. And that was the whole point, wasn’t it? 

“I’m talking about your son, T.J.,” she replied now, tone serious but pleading. “Your son who’s come here because he’s in a crisis with his boyfriend, and you haven’t even asked him what exactly was wrong or how he feels about it.” 

“That’s not true!” 

“Now Margaret,” his dad added, a hand lifted towards her, “wait a minute there. Elaine has been nothing but supportive. She--”

“Oh of course you’ve been supportive. Both of you. You offer a hug and a nice meal, fix an appointment with a therapist and tell him he’ll deal with it somehow. But have you actually bothered to sit down and listen to him? Ever? When he was having issues with drugs or that horrible fiasco with Sean Reeves. You just find solutions, act all pragmatic like everything can be solved or those things that cannot be solved simply have to be gotten over. Have you two ever asked yourself  _ why _ he is like that?” 

“Um… I’m sitting right here,” T.J. said awkwardly, but his grandma talked over him. 

“No, you just take the result and deal with it somehow instead of finding the reason and fixing  _ that _ . And I’m sorry, T.J., if this is making you uncomfortable but it needed to be said. This is something that’s been going wrong in this family for years now, even long before your mother became president, and I’ve had enough of it.” 

“Now it’s all my fault again, of course,” his mom said defensively, a sarcastic chuckle escaping her before she got up and walked across the room, fishing out a cigarette from drawer in a side table and lighting it by the window she now opened. 

“Well, yes, a lot of it,” his grandma said after a pause. “Of course it is. You’re his mother. And I’ve obviously made some mistakes, too, or else you wouldn’t be so cold and pragmatic.”

“Being cold and pragmatic is what’s gotten me this job,” she retorted, and this time, his grandma just nodded softly. “Just because I speak of a truth even I, as the president, can’t change it doesn’t mean I hold my children to the same standards.”

“You may not, but you are their role model, and children learn from their parents.” 

It was Anne who changed the topic after that, and soon, the conversation, awkward and slightly distant as it was, revolved around other, less upsetting topics again. What he had heard - in his grandma’s words and the lack thereof from his mom - stayed with T.J. long into the night.

 

On Monday, he had another therapy session. They talked about his addiction and how to avoid temptation, but that wasn’t the issue that was on the forefront of his mind most of the time. It was the observation he had made at dinner, and what that meant for him had been like an epiphany. None of the problems in his past would have needed to become as big as they had been, had he  _ learned _ to talk about them. Had there been someone who had actually asked and listened and acknowledged that his feelings were valid. 

“By the way,” his therapist started after he’d been quiet for several seconds. “I spoke to a colleague of mine who has his practice in Manhattan. He’d take you if you’re somewhat flexible on the time of the meetings. I can highly recommend him.” 

T.J. looked at her, a small smile on his lips as he nodded. “Yeah, that’d be no problem.” He hated having to start over with someone new and confiding in them, but it was necessary. 

“I’ll email you his details. So, whenever you’re ready to go back you can contact him and make an appointment. He’s really very good and also experienced with substance abuse. If you do find out you don’t click then I have a few other addresses I could refer you to.” 

T.J. couldn’t quite say that he clicked very much with his current therapist. She was just that, a trained psychologist who did her job well and was competent and likeable enough not to put him off. If that applied to the other guy as well, T.J. didn’t have any qualms about it working out. 

“Thanks.” 

“Have you thought about when you’d like to go back again?” 

The polite smile on his lips turned a little more sincere, though his heart rate also picked up with a strange mix of nerves and excitement. 

When he left the practice just about five minutes after answering her question and took a taxi to the railway station, he took his phone out and started typing. 

_ Hey Johnny. I’m coming home tomorrow. Will you be around? _

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday again, and that means a new chapter - one that many of you have been looking forward to a lot. I should warn you, though. Without giving away too much, there's a kind of cliffhanger here. 
> 
> And apologies again for replying to your comments so late. Kinda shitty week. 
> 
> (And if you do have questions about this chapter, feel free to contact me on [tumblr](http://leandraholmes.tumblr.com/))

**** For as long as she could remember, Sue had always felt protective of Johnny. He was her little brother, after all, and while he often had been difficult, sometimes even outright annoying as was normal for every couple of siblings, she had always loved him with a fierce dedication that had only been exceeded once she had become a mother. 

In a way, being the older sister had already been a little bit like motherhood as well, especially after their own mother had died and their father gone to prison. She had been there for Johnny then, often putting her own needs and feelings aside to take care of him, and that had not always been easy. But Johnny had grown up, had grown out of so many things that she had cursed as a teenager when his need for attention and sometimes self-centered attitude had taken every last bit of energy she had. That was very long gone now, and, even though he still had some flaws as did everybody, when she looked back and compared him then and now she could be nothing but proud of the responsible, kind and generous man Johnny had become. 

Seeing her brother so down and worried at Christmas had nearly broken her heart, and so, when Johnny had called her last night to announce that T.J. would finally be coming home, she’d felt immense relief and happiness on his part. While she had been hopeful that T.J. would come around eventually, there had been no guarantee for that, and so she was all the more relieved that the weeks of uncertainty were finally over for everyone involved. 

Johnny got to the Baxter building around two hours before T.J.’s train was scheduled to arrive, to her great surprise landing on the rooftop terrace and waving at her for attention, a huge grin on his face. 

“Why did you fly?” she asked as she opened the door, still a little surprised but a smile of her own on her lips automatically. He really seemed extremely giddy with excitement. 

“It’s faster. Traffic’s always a bitch at this time of day,” he said as he entered, looking around for Frankie who was far away in his playpen at the other end of the living room, not having been able to hear the word ‘bitch’. 

“And… you’re going to pick T.J. up in that?” she said, motioning to his blue Fantastic Four suit. 

Johnny shrugged. “Not that it matters. But no, I actually thought I’d get changed here. You haven’t thrown out my old clothes, have you?” 

“No, I haven’t. Though we’ll have to start talking about what happens to your old room once Frankie gets older,” she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she watched him walk over to her son. 

“Aww man, kicking me out like this for good,” he said half to her, half to Frankie as he leaned over the playpen and picked him up. “You’d do that to your old uncle, really? Take my room for yourself?” 

Frankie only squealed in reply, a delighted laugh bubbling from his chest as Johnny lifted him higher and swayed him around as if he were an aeroplane. “Man, you’re getting heavy, too. Mommy feeding you well then?”

“As if I wouldn’t,” Sue said, chuckling in amusement as she watched the two together, Frankie’s little hands reaching out to touch Johnny’s cheeks only to let out a surprised little laugh and pulling them back once he felt the prickly stubbles. 

“Had no time to shave, did you?” 

Johnny was holding Frankie on one hip now, patting his back and rocking him softly as his free hand reached up to his own face. “Should I? I don’t mean to grow a full beard or anything, but… I thought it suits me. You think T.J. wouldn’t like it? I mean I’ve had it like this before, so...” 

Sue had to laugh again, softly shaking her head. Johnny seemed so high strung on energy, as if he’d drunk a gallon of coffee. “Let me see,” she said, coming closer and reaching up to run her fingers over his cheek. “Hm… it’s okay. Not too prickly.” 

“No but seriously. Did he ever say something the last time?” Johnny asked, obviously concerned about that now. “I could still shave. Does Reed have a spare razor, or disposables?” 

“It’s fine. Really. Gosh, calm down already, you’re making  _ me _ nervous,” she chuckled and took Frankie from him. 

Johnny released a small, somewhat sheepish laugh. “Sorry. It’s just… Less than two hours and he’ll be here.” And there it was, that wide, giddy and exuberant grin on his face that was so catching that she felt a knot of emotion in her throat. 

“I know. Come on, sit down and I’ll get you something to drink. I’d offer coffee, but… you’re getting decaf at most.” 

Johnny made a disgusted face. “Eww, decaf, no thanks. But hey, should I get to the lab? Reed could use my help with that thing he’s building.” 

Sue put Frankie back into his pen, before she turned back around to face her brother. “No, he’s about done now. His plans changed somewhere halfway through the process. You know him.”

“Aww man! You’re telling me I came here for nothing?” Johnny asked in mock outrage, but his serious expression broke just the fraction of a second later, replaced by a wide grin again. “No, actually I’m glad I’m here. I just didn’t know what to do with the time I had left anymore. I cleaned the bathroom and changed the sheets and--”

“Wow, you cleaned the bathroom?” she asked, half incredulous. “Should I check for a fever or are you okay?” 

“Haha, very funny. I just didn’t want T.J. to come home to a mess in the shower after I’ve shaved my balls.” 

“Jesus, Johnny, TMI!” Sue exclaimed just as Frankie piped up and lifted a rainbow coloured playball, squealing something that probably only she recognised as the word ‘ball’. 

Johnny laughed, shrugging his apology at Sue before he got up from the couch again. “I’ll get myself something to drink. Anything for you?” 

“No I’m good. I’ve got water here,” she replied, still chuckling as she watched him head in direction of the kitchen. Squatting down in front of the playpen she looked at her son inside. 

“Your uncle is such a dork sometimes. Erm, yeah, better forget that word immediately,” she said, not really seriously as she leaned in and put the pacifier that was lying around in the pen back into Frankie’s mouth. 

She heard steps on the hallway, coming towards the living room very quickly, and she wondered briefly what had caused Reed to rush upstairs in such a haste. Maybe some ground-breaking discovery he had just made, she thought with a smile. 

But when he entered, rather breathless and eyes wide, she knew it must be something other than that. 

“Turn on the TV,” he said, his voice shaky and face pale, and this was when she was really starting to get worried. Being closer to the coffee table herself, she picked up the remote and switched it on. 

“CNN, any news channel,” Reed instructed, still breathing hard, and it took several long moments after she had found the right channel and was watching the images on it for her to make sense of his agitation. 

“Oh my god,” she said softly, covering her mouth with one hand as she watched the footage of what looked like a devastatingly huge train accident. There was debris everywhere, whole wagons of what looked like a passenger train torn apart, some towards the end of the train looking mostly intact but derailed, lying on their sides or even upside down. But the front section was nothing but scattered remains, the engine nearly indistinguishable as well as several of the wagons. 

Train explosion in Philadelphia, the caption read. 

“My god, that’s horrible,” she said, wondering immediately whether this was linked to the Cleveland and Chicago bombings over the last few weeks. But this one had a much more devastating extent, and she could only imagine how many people must have died or been severely injured in it. 

“Is Johnny here yet?” Reed asked, and his voice sounded pained, frightened even as Sue had rarely ever heard it. 

Her brow furrowed softly, and she looked in direction of the hallway and back at him. “He’s in the kitchen. Why?”

But Reed didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle fell together and Sue felt like her knees were going weak. Train. Philadelphia, which was on the route up here from-- “Oh God, that’s not… Oh God!” she said and, with shaky fingers, turned the volume up. 

Reed was at her side now, one arm coming up around her waist as they both stood in front of the TV. And Sue prayed they were wrong, that this was just another train, maybe one going down from New York or heading in a completely different direction. But then the newsreader came back into the picture, and what he said then nearly made her stomach turn. 

‘ _ One of the victims of the attack, we are informed by Amtrack, was President Barrish’s son T.J. Hammond who was booked in for a business class seat. The business class section in particular has suffered the largest damage, and there is currently no hope that any of the passengers could have survived the detonation. _ ’

“No! Oh God no!” Sue got out in no more than a shaky whisper. Her view got blurry, and she struggled for balance, grasping Reed’s hand so hard that it must have hurt. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Johnny was so excited, so happy to see T.J. again. He was supposed to come home. What the hell was she supposed to do? 

She barely heard the steps entering the living room again, only noticed when she heard her brother’s light and completely oblivious tone, “I made myself a sandwich, hope that’s okay.”

This couldn’t be happening. How should she tell him? How to make it somewhat bearable to him when it was the worst news anyone could deliver? 

“Johnny, come here,” Reed said softly, at least taking that part from her. 

Johnny had hardly swallowed his bite yet, the smile on his lips faltering as he saw their shocked faces, and it took another few seconds until he reached them and saw the images on TV, a glass of juice in one hand and the sandwich in the other. “Woah. What the hell? Another explosion?” 

He, too, did not seem to make the connection at first, or didn’t want, dare to, and Sue had to keep it together now, had to be strong for him and prepare him for what he’d either hear from her or the people on the news. Though she had no idea which was better. 

“Johnny, please sit down,” she said gently, swallowing the knot in her throat and reaching to take the glass from his hand. 

“Why? What’s up? I mean… this is horrible, but we’ve seen stuff like that before. I can handle it,” he said, holding on to the glass and taking a step back from her, and that was when she knew some part of him, tiny and in the background of his mind as it may be, was sensing there was more to it this time. 

‘ _ Do we have word from the White House yet? _ ’ the newsreader was asking a reporter at the sight now, and Johnny’s brow furrowed softly as he looked back at the TV. 

“Johnny, please. Listen to me,” Sue said as calmly and soothingly as she could muster. “Please sit down.” 

“Why the fuck should I be sitting down?” Johnny exclaimed now, all light-heartedness gone from his tone and features. “It’s just some train.”

But Sue shook her head, feeling the tears she couldn’t hold back run down her cheeks as she tried to approach him, a hand lifted to reach out to him. “No, it’s not. It’s not just some train. God, Johnny, I’m so, so sorry, but--” 

“No!” Johnny shouted, taking a large step back. The juice spilled over the rim of the glass. “No. You know, this isn’t funny,” he went on, letting out a laugh that sounded more helpless than he probably would have liked. “This is a shitty joke, you know that. Just because some stupid train blew up god knows where it doesn’t mean--”

“It’s in Philadelphia,” she interrupted him, trying to keep her voice at that gentle but insistent tone. “It’s on the route. And they just said… They said he was on it.” 

“Then they’re wrong!” he shouted, and this time it came out so loud that Frankie started crying in his pen. But Sue could not worry about her son now, only noticing from the corner of her eye how Reed went to him.

“Johnny,” she tried again but her brother vehemently shook his head. 

“No. No. This can’t be… no. He just texted me earlier. He can’t have been-- No!” 

‘ _ So far, the estimated casualties count over hundred, with First Son T.J. Hammond being the most prominent of them _ .’ 

“No, no, no. NO!!” Johnny shouted again, nearly screamed as it finally seemed to hit him. The glass fell to the floor, splashing juice all over the carpet just before the sandwich landed on it too. “It’s not true. It’s not true. He’s not dead. He can’t be!” 

Sue finally crossed the distance between them, her hands reaching out to do the only thing she could think of, but just before she could wrap them around him, he drew back violently. His face was contorted in shock and pain, but there was something hopeful in his eyes, some last straw he was desperately clinging on to, and it broke Sue’s heart even more. 

“Johnny, please sit. We’re… we’re here for you. We’ll--”

“No!” he said again, this time with a strength that was fueled by that last spark of hope. “He’s not dead. He’s there somewhere and… I need to go there.”

“Johnny, wait!” Sue tried to grasp his hand as he started in direction of the balcony door, not knowing how else to convince him, but he just shook her off as hurried past her and tore the door open.

“Johnny!” she called, desperate, but to no avail. Just a second later, he was engulfed in flame and shot up into the sky. 

“Oh no,” Reed said softly, shaken as well as he held their son in his arms and tried to calm him down, and Sue felt like she just wanted to collapse in a heap on the floor and cry. But that was not an option. 

“Is the Fantasticar ready?”

“Yes,” Reed replied with mild confusion on his features. 

“You watch Frankie, I’m going after Johnny,” she said as she passed him, on her way into the hallway. 

“Wait, Sue. You can’t fly alone. And I can’t…”

“Of course I can,” she replied in passing and ran all the way to the staircase, not waiting for her husband to say anything else or follow her. 

Getting to the Fantasticar and flying down to Philadelphia were the longest minutes Sue had ever had to endure. Hundreds of thoughts were racing through her mind of what Johnny could do, of him getting to the site of the accident alone in a state of shock and frenzy, and she prayed that the head start he had had would not would not give him too much time. Time to… she didn’t even know. Do damage, to himself, to others, she had no idea. But she knew she couldn’t leave him there alone. 

Her stomach was in knots when the sight finally came into view, and she quickly adjusted the autopilot settings to find a landing spot among the debris and the trees that lined the rail tracks, away from the countless of firetrucks, ambulances and police cars. 

Finally, she did see Johnny, spotted the blue of his suit among larger parts of the demolished wagons and other people hurrying amongst them, and she had barely touched ground when she disabled the safety and pushed up the top to jump out. 

“Johnny!” she shouted at the top of her lungs as she ran closer, just careful enough to not stumble over tracks or debris, but he didn’t hear her yet. She could see two firefighters running in his direction to where disfigured remains of a wagon were still smoking. They shouted something to him she couldn’t hear, almost got to him, before a blast of fire hit the first one square in the chest and made him fly backwards. 

“Johnny, no! Stop!!” 

She only took a second to watch the firefighter, see him scramble back to his feet with the aid of his partner while she ran towards her brother. And finally, Johnny seemed to acknowledge her presence. 

“I need to find him. He’s got to be here somewhere,” Johnny was saying, frantically searching between the parts, but the wagon he had just inspected was damaged beyond recognition, no signs of life or even bodies that were still intact in it. Everything was singed or burned to charcoal. 

“Johnny. Just… Just stop for a second, please,” she tried, having gotten closer to him but, for the first time in her life, a little scared he might hurt her as well in his panic. 

“No! Damnit, no! Why don’t you help me?” 

Another wagon, not quite as torn up as the first, was lying at the edge of the trees a short distance away. There were rescue workers hectically running around it and trying to access something, or someone, through the windows. Johnny rushed in their direction. 

“T.J.? T.J.?? Johnny kept shouting his name, but when he arrived with Sue on his heels, they could see the rescue workers pull out a young woman, long red hair blackened by smoke and dust, unconscious but probably alive. 

“He’s in there! What if he’s in there?” Johnny said, out of breath and Sue decided to at least indulge him so far as to get to his side and look into the wagon. What she saw then nearly made her stomach turn again. Bodies piled over each other, badly burned and some of them torn apart like the rest of the train. 

“Get away from there,” someone was shouting just before two firefighters came to stem another window open while paramedics came with another stretcher. 

“Johnny please. Johnny, listen to me,” she tried again, laying a hand on his upper arm but feeling him shrugging her off again. “What ticket did he buy, do you know that? Did he travel economy?” 

She so wished she could be wrong about this, wished there was a chance T.J. might have sat in one of the rear wagons after all, but the railroad corporation had confirmed that he’d been in business class. And there was no chance he could have survived that. Johnny must have known upon arriving at the site and seeing that there was nothing left of those first few wagons that would have allowed anyone or anything to survive in them. 

But Johnny didn’t reply. He looked around, breathing hard, face contorted in pain and fear. He started shaking his head, slowly at first but more vehemently then, and she didn’t know whether it was from realisation or desperate denial of the facts. If only she could make this easier for him somehow, but she was terribly out of her depth, feeling her eyes sting with tears again. 

“Johnny.” 

“No. God, please, no,” he gasped, his voice breaking. 

She took another step closer. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Another ‘no’ came over his lips, but she barely heard it over the commotion around them, and then, just when she had gotten to him again, Johnny broke and sank to his knees. Frantic, heaving breaths left him as his hand gripped a stone on the ground. For balance, to cling on to, to not feel the pain, she didn’t know. Sue leaned down above him, a hand on his back, and for long moments she thought he was going to throw up, or break out in tears at least, but neither happened. Just those panted breaths as he shook his head ‘no’ again and again.  

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” a voice behind them reached her ears, and Sue wiped the tears from her eyes as she turned to look back to a firefighter. “You need to move your plane out of the way. More vehicles are coming.” 

She gave him a brief nod, unable to find a steady voice. Her hand was still rubbing Johnny’s back, and she wished he’d turn towards her, would seek her embrace and let her comfort him, but all he did was take more deep breaths, shaky and unsteady. 

“Johnny, we need to move,” she said gently, trying to grasp one of his hands. “Can you do that? Can you get up?” 

Very slowly, he nodded and lifted his head, eyes red but no tears leaving them, and his face was paler than she’d ever seen it. 

“Come on,” she said and pulled him up, slinging one arm around his waist to support him. He leaned heavily on her, weak and numb at her side, and the steps away from the wagon and towards the Fantasticar seemed to take up all of the energy he had left. 

Sue still remembered what it had been like finding out that their mother had died. It had been a shock for both of them, and she’d never forget the way Johnny had screamed ‘no’ again and again when they had gotten the news or the many nights they’d cried. It had been the worst thing that could ever happen to children, young as they were, but in a way, even despite the fact that death had never played a role in their life before that, accepting the truth of it had seemed more straight-forward then. The crying and screaming she’d been able to handle. She had comforted her brother, held him in her arms until he fell asleep and she followed a lot later. But this? This numbness and denial, it was much more than she knew how to deal with. 

She’d have to figure it out somehow, though. 

When they got to the Fantasticar, to her great horror and outrage she saw a bunch of news reporters heading their way, microphones held in their direction as they called questions their way, flashes of cameras going off. All she could do then was to lift her left hand and bring up a force field, shielding their sounds from her and Johnny. He really didn’t deserve this, and definitely not right now. 

She helped Johnny climb into one of the seats and fastened the belt for him before she took off, setting the autopilot to bring them back home. 

“Johnny, are you with me?” she said over her back, for the lack of a better idea of what to say, but Johnny didn’t reply. She could only see him nod weakly from the corner of her eye. There was nothing she could do for him right now. 

When they landed on the roof of the Baxter Building again a few minutes later, Johnny seemed to have regained at least some of his physical strength. He climbed out of his seat by himself and didn’t lean as heavily on her side as she guided him down and into the hallway to his room. Reed was coming their way, a look of wrecked concern on his face when he saw them, but Sue just shook her head softly and hoped he’d read from her gaze that he should keep his distance for now. Too much attention from more than one person was the last thing Johnny could use right now, she knew. 

“You should probably change,” she said softly once they were inside and the door closed behind them. And it felt so ridiculous to offer this, so insignificant compared to what Johnny was going through. 

Johnny just nodded again, standing in the middle of his room with no move to go somewhere and sit down. As if he’d forgotten how to function. 

Sue went to his closet and found a pair of comfy looking sweatpants and a t-shirt, giving them to Johnny who accepted the items with some hesitation. “Can you do this alone?” 

For the first time, there was something like a glimpse of defiance in his eyes, just for the fraction of a second, and the smallest of annoyed undertones when he replied, “Yeah. I’ll go to the bathroom.” 

And that was a human reaction, at least, and better than this numbness. But it was hardly the solution to anything. 

Sue waited outside of the bathroom while he got changed and went to get some water from his mini fridge, pouring it into a glass. Then she poured herself one, drinking it with slow, large gulps and pushing the heavy feeling in her chest and gut far, far away. 

T.J. was dead. Just gone in the blink of an eye, and she had to fight hard, take a few deep breaths again to keep the tears from spilling from her eyes. She couldn’t cry now, couldn’t break down. Johnny needed her, needed her to be strong for him. 

When several minutes had passed with Johnny still locked inside his bathroom, she was starting to get worried. “Are you okay in there?” she said, knocking at the door. 

To her relief she heard a muffled ‘yeah’, and, just a minute later, the door opened and Johnny stepped out in the fresh clothes. The closest surface he found was his bed and he sat down on the foot of it, not looking at her or anywhere in particular. 

“Here, drink something,” she said, handing him the glass as she sat down next to him, and Johnny accepted, but he just stared at it for several long moments before he finally took a small sip. 

Sue still didn’t know what to do. What to say above all things. What  _ did _ you say in such a situation, when, not even an hour ago, the world had been great and full of promises only to collapse in on itself? One moment, everything had been perfectly fine and then the next it wasn’t, was the furthest thing from it. How was Johnny supposed to deal with that, and what could she do to help?

The silence stretched between them, and all she could think of doing was putting her hand on his back again, thumb running over it in soothing circles. Then, Johnny’s back started shaking softly and his face contorted. Hands shaking, the glass nearly slipped out of his fingers and she just so caught it, putting it on the floor just when shaky, heaving sobs shook Johnny forcefully. 

“Shh, god, I’m so sorry,” she said in barely more than a whisper as she laid her arms around him, and he started crying for real. Loud and desperate sobs coming over his lips as he sank backwards and she with him, cradling him in her arms and pulling him a bit further up on the bed so he could lie down properly. He clung on to her, fingers of one hand dug into the front of her cardigan. 

“Shhh, Johnny. I’m here for you, okay? You’re gonna get through this. I’m here,” she said, holding him as tightly as she could, swallowing the knot in her throat when she heard the pain of his loss come out with every trembling sob. 

“How?” he cried. “God. How? It’s all my fault.” 

“No, Johnny, no, it’s not!” she said, feeling her heart clench painfully in her chest as his next sob came out with a howl of grief. “It’s not your fault. It’s not. These things happen. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.” 

But that hardly seemed to placate him. He cried so hard that Sue desperately wished she could take some of his pain from him, and she was so, so close to giving in to it herself. She’d adored T.J., too, and she’d miss him horribly. The thought of never seeing him again, never watching him and Johnny together or how he played with Frankie, hear it when he played the piano… it was unbearable and cruel, and Sue couldn’t even begin to imagine how much worse it must be for Johnny. “You’ll get through this,” she said again, needing to convince herself of it. “I promise you, you will.” 

She repeated it over and over, little words of encouragement, of the only bit of hope she could give him along with the comfort of her embrace. She didn’t know if it worked, maybe just a tiny, tiny bit, or whether it was due to Johnny simply having no strength in him anymore, but his sobs slowly subsided until he was only crying faintly and the grip of his hand in her cardigan loosened. 

It must have been the emotional exhaustion when, a good while later - Sue didn’t even know how long - Johnny fell asleep in her arms. He looked nearly peaceful then, just his eyes swollen and his nose reddened. Sue leaned in and kissed his forehead before she carefully lifted herself up without waking him. But right now, she needed a break too. 

When she opened and closed the door as quietly as she could, Reed was sitting on the floor in the hallway, a babyphone next to him, and he scrambled to his feet as soon as Sue had stepped out. “How is he?” 

“Not good,” Sue replied and, just a second later, fell into her husbands arms. Finally, she let the tears come, cried for the loss of a person she had cared about a lot and more so for what Johnny had to go through, and Reed held her close, rocked her softly in his embrace and caressed her back, kissed her temple and cheek. 

“God, I don’t know what to do,” she got out under tears. All the strength she had held up for her brother was leaving her now. 

“You’re going to be there for him. That’s all you can do,” Reed said gently. 

“But I don’t know how. How is he supposed to get through this? How if I don’t even… I don’t know what I’d do if… if I’d lost you.” It were desperate sobs that were shaking her too now, just an echo of how hard her brother had cried, the pain in her chest at the mere thought of experiencing the same loss overwhelming enough to make her wonder how  _ anyone _ could endure this in reality. 

“You  _ would _ get through it,” Reed said with conviction, holding her face between his palms and caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re strong and brave and you’re an amazing mother. You’d get through it, and so will Johnny,” he said and brought his lips to hers, a kiss full of comfort and reassurance, and while it didn’t fix everything, Sue drank from it and felt some strength seep back into her. 

“I’m sorry. This is… it’s just all too much,” she confessed and once more leaned against him, felt warmth flow into her from the gentle comfort of his embrace. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.” 

“The day started out so great. How can something like this simply happen?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” he said this time. Nobody could. 

  
  



	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that massive cliffhanger and all the angst in the last chapter. But since I've been dropping hints in the comments all the time, it seemed like none of you were TOO freaked out about it. 
> 
> One thing on the future chapters: I have one more finished after this one, which I'll post next Sunday. I will do my utmost to write the next chapter swiftly, but at this point, I cannot make any promises. I've had a pretty rough time lately and don't really have much energy at the moment. So it might happen that you'll have to wait a little bit longer after next Sunday for the conclusion of the fic (approx 3 more chapters and an epilogue). If that happens, then be assured that the point I'm going to leave you at next weekend will be somewhat satisfactory. No cliffhangers, no huge loose ends. 
> 
> And now, enjoy the next chapter and have a great Sunday.

The road ahead was packed with cars, many of them honking in vain at the complete stillstand. The clock on the dashboard showed 12:37, twenty-three minutes before the train departed. 

T.J. was getting really impatient. He stared at the road, willing the cars to move, but nothing happened. In front of them, a sedan did not progress onto the next crossing but instead decided to let other cars from the right side move onto the main road. Their own light turned red again. 

“Damnit, why can’t this idiot move?” 

“I don’t know,” Ella said, sounding a lot more calm than he felt. “It wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway.” She shifted slightly to be able to see further ahead over the queue of vehicles in front of her. 

“Is there any alternative route?” T.J. wanted to know, checking the time again. He had only twenty minutes left to get to the station. 

“I’m afraid not. I mean we could pass this one by the parallel streets, but we’d have to get on it again in about a mile. And it doesn’t really look like it’s much better over there,” she said, pointing to the next street leading off to the left. It was just as packed with cars as the main one. 

“Is this normal? I mean… this isn’t normal, is it?” T.J. asked and Ella shook her head. 

“No, this definitely isn’t normal. There must have been an accident or something. Hm, maybe you can check on your phone? See if it suggests an alternative route after all.”

“Yeah. Good idea,” T.J. said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. There was a text from Johnny, and despite his impatience to finally find a route that worked and would get him to the station in time, he took a few seconds to read it. 

_ Hey. 4:30 was it, right? I’m gonna pick you up. Already know what you want for dinner?  _

And: 

_ I so can’t wait to see you. Love you.  _

It sent a small smile to T.J.’s lips, and he quickly typed out a reply. 

_ Yep. And no, anything’s fine. Can’t wait either.  _

Then, he quickly opened google maps and let his phone search their location. 

It was true, too. He really couldn’t wait to be back home. Last night when he had lain in bed, some doubts had come back to him, and he wondered whether it wasn’t all too soon after all, but this morning he had woken up with an aching yearning for Johnny and a confidence that they could make it all work again, if only they talked properly this time and listened to each other. And Johnny had been so good at that lately whenever they had talked on the phone or texted, so patient and willing to understand him better. There was really no reason to put this off any longer, no logical one at least, and, going by how his heart was beating more rapidly with excitement every time he thought about it, no emotional one either.  

His phone beeped softly and T.J. cursed under his breath as he watched the routes load. “My battery’s low.”

“Oh. Is it enough to figure out the route?” Ella asked and T.J. nodded, finally seeing the street map of Baltimore’s city centre come into view. 

“Yeah. Damn. Looks like the streets are jammed all the way to the station. If we’re not moving any time soon I’ll have to run there.” 

“You can’t run. It’s over a mile still, and you have a big suitcase,” Ella said, a little impatient now after all. 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” T.J. asked. Nineteen minutes now until the train departed. Nineteen minutes for 1.4 miles. “I could leave the case and you send it to me?” 

“Maybe if I can get you closer to the station it might work. What about the parallel route?” 

T.J. checked again just as the light went green, and this time, the sedan in front of them drove onto the crossing and Ella followed before anyone else from the right might weasel in. 

“Looks a little better. Okay, you’d have to--” 

But Ella was already reacting, hitting her blinker and quickly turning left. A car honked behind her, having to break as it had just wanted to accelerate, and Ella lifted a hand in apology. “Sorry!” she called, even though the other driver couldn’t hear her. 

It took them another minute to get over the crossing and into the smaller side street, but the cars weren’t moving much faster there either, and T.J. let out a soft sigh. 

“I’m gonna miss my train. Fuck.”

“Let’s see how it’s up there,” she said, nodding towards the next big street that led to the centre. 

The battery signal of T.J.’s phone beeped again. 

“Shit. Do you have a charger here?” he asked, looking around to the cigarette lighter and door storage but seeing nothing. 

“No, sorry,” she said when, at last they reached the upper road. It really didn’t look that much better there. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why is it losing power so quickly?” T.J. cursed. He’d noticed his phone’s battery had started acting up on occasion but thought nothing of it. It should not have gone empty this quickly, though. “Okay, I’m gonna call Johnny and tell him just in case,” he said, already scrolling through his contacts to select the number when, quite suddenly, his phone died. 

“No! Fuck, no, not now!” 

“Dead already?” Ella asked in alarmed surprise, and T.J. just nodded, having to swallow his frustration over this and ignore the little voice in the back of his mind that told him this was fate interfering with him heading back home already. 

“Okay, gimme your phone. I know his number by heart,” he said and Ella pointed to her handbag in the legroom of the passenger seat. 

“It’s in there. Just look yourself. If you don’t mind digging through lipsticks and tampons.” 

“I’m not some hetero fuckboy, thanks,” he replied, appreciating her humour in the stressful situation. He looked in the main compartment first, finding her purse, a case with sunglasses, tissues, lip balm, and yes, tampons, a pen… He looked in the small inside pocket and the one on the outside, but to no avail. 

“I can’t find it.” 

“Okay, gimme. Hold the steering wheel,” she said, quickly taking the handbag out of his hands and searching it up and down. She even threw a few less important items like leaflets, some old cash receipts and other clutter onto the back seat to make more room, but after a minute or so, she just let out a frustrated groan. 

“Shit, I think I left it on the kitchen table,” she said. 

“You’re kidding, right?” T.J. asked, wondering how this possibly could get any worse. “My battery’s dead, you’ve got no charger and forgot your phone at home? And I’ve got… Fuck, thirteen minutes. Forget it. I’m not gonna make it. Shit, shit, shit!” 

“T.J., I’m so sorry.”

“Great, now what?” he said, letting his head thump against the backrest. This really couldn’t be happening. He was supposed to be home with Johnny in less than four hours. And now? No matter what they did, whether he took the later train or found a flight up to New York, he still wouldn’t be home until much, much later that night. 

“Head home, charge your phone and tell Johnny you’ll come later?” she offered, a sympathetic smile on her lips as she looked over to him. 

T.J. let out a long sigh, before he shrugged and then nodded. “Yeah. Guess that’s the only option. Fuck.” 

Ella regarded him for a moment, then looked back onto the street where the oncoming traffic was scarce despite the completely clogged right lane. “Or... “

“Or what?” 

The smile on her lips turned a little wider just before she took a complete U-turn and drove on in the opposite direction. “I could drive you there.”

“What? No! You have to work tomorrow,” T.J. said. He appreciated her offer, but couldn't possibly ask that of her. 

“Well, it’ll take us around three and a half hours to get there, so… pretty much the same time your train is going to arrive. Johnny won’t even know you’re late. And if I head back straight away I’ll be home before nine. So that’s fine.” 

“Oh my God, you’d really do that?” T.J. asked, his mood lighting up significantly at the prospect. 

Ella shrugged softly. “Why not? I haven’t done an epic road trip in ages. So it’s gonna be fun. Plus… I have the perfect mix CD somewhere in the back.” 

T.J. had to let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head at the fact that her car even still had a CD player. He couldn’t remember when he’d last touched a CD. “Okay, if it’s really alright for you, then yeah. I’m not going to decline. But I’m paying for the gas. And that for your return trip.” 

“Okay, deal,” she said just before they saw a sign that would lead them to the interstate 95. 

Maybe this day was going to end like he had planned after all. 

 

~*~

This day was a huge pile of crap, T.J. decided nearly two hours later when they were stuck, once again, in a massive, massive traffic jam around Philly. There was literally no way they’d make it to Penn Station by four-thirty, which meant Johnny would be standing there at the platform, waiting for him, with no means of being informed where T.J. was. 

“Maybe we can stop somewhere and buy a charger?” Ella suggested.

“Yeah,” T.J. groaned, looking at the rows and rows of cars ahead. “If we ever get to another gas station.” 

“Okay,” Ella said, and there was a smile on her lips as she reached for the car stereo and ejected the CD mid song. “Gimme that CD case again. Or look for it yourself. It’s got ‘Mix 2001’ written on it.” 

“You’re serious?” T.J. asked, already flipping through the CD’s.

Ella didn’t reply, but when the CD was inserted and she hit play, T.J. could not help the snorted laugh that escaped him at the first tunes of ‘Oops I Did it Again’. “Wow, is the whole CD gonna be this bad?” 

Ella shrugged softly. “Hm, no. Some songs are good even today, I guess. But come on. This is a road trip. We need ridiculous music, so…” She turned up the volume and, because she didn’t really need to keep her hands on the steering wheel right now, started to move and sing along to the song. And okay, that was fun, and it did take T.J.’s mind off of things for a while as he started to sing along, too. 

About half an hour later, they finally stopped at a gas station and T.J. bought a charger, impatiently plugging his phone in as soon as they were driving again. He waited a few minutes before he switched it on, giving it the change to charge up a minimum of battery power but, when he pressed the power button, nothing happened. “Shit, it’s not working. Why the fuck is it not working?” T.J. asked, wondering if it was the cable that was broken, the cigarette lighter or, worst case, his phone. 

“Maybe wait a few more minutes? I don’t think this has the same voltage as a regular power socket. Might take longer.” 

T.J. nodded, mentally keeping his fingers crossed that she was right, but ten minutes later, his phone still didn’t react, and it took him all his resolve not to simply toss the thing out of the window in sheer frustration. 

No silly 90s and 2000s songs could improve his mood after that. It was some time after Trenton, still an hour away from their destination, when they made another stop, and T.J. decided to call Johnny from a payphone. As he dialed, he checked the clock above the counter at the gas station. It was four-twenty-eight. Just in time. 

The phone rang two, three, four times and then went to voicemail, and T.J. cursed under his breath. “Uh, Johnny, hi, it’s me, T.J. You’re probably not picking up because it’s an unknown number? My phone died so I’m calling you from a payphone. Anyway, I’m at a gas station right now. Missed my train and Ella is driving me up. I’ll be a little later. We’re coming to our place right away, so… meet you there in about an hour or a little less? And, you can’t call me back so… I really hope you check your voicemail. Bye.” 

When he stepped away from the booth, he saw Ella waiting there for him with two takeaway cups of coffee and an expectant gaze. “It went to voicemail,” T.J. said, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I left him a message.” 

“Oh. Does he usually check them?” 

“Yeah, he should. I mean, at least when he waits there and I don’t show up, he’ll try to call me and then see the missed call.” And that sounded convincing and reassuring enough even in his own mind. Just one more hour, tops. 

They put in a different mix CD on the last bit of their route, something a little more mellow - a mix of soul and Motown with a few R’n’B songs in between. Finally, just about forty minutes later, they reached Lincoln Tunnel and T.J. could hardly wait to be back home. The traffic on the 9A was alright for the time of day, so at long last, luck was on their side. 

He had already taken his keys out of his small travel bag at their last stop and let them into the parking garage, directing Ella to one of the visitor’s lots and then, finally, to the elevator and up to the top floor. 

His heart was beating loudly in his chest now, his fingers shaking slightly when he aimed for the door lock. Then, at long last, he entered his and Johnny’s apartment. 

“Johnny? I’m home,” he called, but the very next moment he stopped in surprise, noticing that all lights were switched off and the place was completely dark. Switching the hallway and living room lights on he took a few steps further in. “Johnny, you here?” he called a bit louder, wondering whether his boyfriend was maybe in the bedroom. 

Ella stayed behind in the kitchen area while T.J. sprinted up the stairs, still calling out for Johnny as he first entered the bedroom, finding it dark as well, and then the bathroom. Johnny, however, was nowhere in sight. 

“He’s not home?” Ella called up towards him as he came back down again, his heart going fast for a completely different reason this time. 

“No. I’ve no idea where he is.”

“Maybe plug your phone back in and try calling him again?” she suggested, and T.J. quickly went to do just that, racking his brain for an explanation as to why Johnny wasn’t here. Maybe he’d gone out to get something for dinner and it had taken him a bit longer than anticipated, he told himself, ignoring the uneasy feeling somewhere in the pit of his stomach. 

Five minutes later, he tried to switch his phone on again and, same as in the car, it stayed black. “Fuck. It’s broken. It’s fucking broken. I can’t believe it. I’ve only had it for half a year.” 

“Do you have a landline?” 

T.J. let out a sarcastic chuckle. “No. Who the hell needs a landline these days? Fuck.”

“Okay, is there anywhere he could be?” 

“I don’t know where. I mean I left him that message and told him I’d come here,” T.J. replied, pushing the surge of despair to the back of his mind. He pondered whether he should go to Adil’s to try call him from there. After all, Adil lived the closest to them, but what if he was working? He often worked rather late. His next option was trying Sue and Reed. They also would definitely know if something had happened to Johnny, but he pushed that thought out of his mind. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” Ella said, laying a hand on his lower arm in a reassuring gesture. “I’m sure this is just some misunderstanding or bad timing. So… leave him a note and I’ll drive you to the Baxter Building.” 

“But you need to get back home. It’s much later than you thought already,” T.J. replied, feeling bad for pulling her into all of this. He should have just taken the afternoon train instead. 

“It’s fine. I’m not going to drive back home not knowing you’re okay. Which I’m sure you will be, but I want to know. So…” 

He gave her a small, grateful smile and quickly went to scribble a note for Johnny, leaving it on the kitchen island. 

Then, they were back out of the door again and, just a minute later, driving to Midtown Manhattan. 

T.J. still had a card for the underground parking at the Baxter Building. Sue and Reed had given it to him ages ago for visits and emergency purposes, and luckily it also worked on the elevator, taking him all the way up to the penthouse, the doors sliding open with a soft ‘ding’. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” he called carefully, not wanting to disturb Sue or Reed as he stepped into the hallway. The lights were dimly lit, no sounds of music or anything else to be heard. T.J. called out again, and, at long last, he could hear steps approaching. 

He had expected surprise on either Sue’s or Reed’s features at showing up here, but the look he saw on Reed’s face now as he rounded a corner into the hallway, was one of utter bewilderment and shock, and it made T.J. stop in his tracks, staring at Reed in confusion. 

“Hey, I… I just got home and Johnny wasn’t there, so--”  

But he didn’t get to finish. Reed had hurried his way and caught him in a bone-crushing hug, letting out a startled gasp. 

“I… um. What’s going on?” T.J. asked, at first simply still just confused, but then, quite suddenly, several pieces fell together and he felt his heart miss a beat with a deep and sudden sense of fear. “Oh my God. Is Johnny okay??” 

“Johnny’s okay,” Reed quickly got out, his voice sounding breathless as he leaned back, hands on T.J.’s shoulders to regard him, and yes, his eyes were definitely glistening faintly with moisture. “We thought  _ you _ weren’t! We thought you were dead.”

Relief washed over T.J. at the first words, but the rest brought a small, disbelieving laugh over his lips. “What?” 

“Haven’t you heard?” Reed asked, brow furrowed deeply and T.J. could only shake his head, not understanding anything. “The train. You… There was another bombing. The train you were supposed to be on was completely blown apart at Philadelphia.” 

“Oh my god,” T.J. let out, still not fully able to process what he was hearing. “I missed it. Ella drove me here by car.” Ella, next to him, had let out a low gasp. 

“Oh thank god,” Reed laughed breathlessly and squeezed T.J.’s right shoulder tightly. “But why didn’t you call?” 

“Phone died,” T.J. replied, feeling his own voice fade as it slowly, bit by bit, dawned on him what that meant. “Where’s Johnny?” he asked, a painful clench in his chest. 

“He’s in his room. He was sleeping last time Sue--”

“What’s going-- Oh my god!” T.J. looked over Reed’s shoulder to see Sue, just having gotten to the hallway as well. She stopped dead in her tracks, a hand covering her mouth. Then, she too, ran towards him, and T.J. was once more caught in a tight hug, and while that touched him, same as the tears Sue could not seem to hold back right now, he was impatient, too, wanting to get to Johnny as quickly as possible. 

“I missed my train. Then my phone died and I couldn’t call anybody. Ella drove me here,” he quickly explained to her as well. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Sue cried before she looked at Reed, then T.J. again, obviously struggling to process everything herself. “It was such a huge explosion. Everyone thinks you died in it. T.J. my god, we--” 

It was all too much, too absurd that all of the circumstances today had led him to this point, and another realisation hit him then, hard like a punch in the gut. “My family. They think… you said everyone?” 

“It was all over the news,” Reed replied. “That’s why I was surprised you hadn’t heard.” 

T.J. let out a groan, feeling horrible and guilty that everyone who cared about him had had to go through this. “We weren’t listening to the radio. Just CD’s. Shit. I need to call my mom. I… fuck, my phone’s still dead and I left it at home. Do you have a number?” 

Sue and Reed exchanged a brief glance, but neither of them seemed to have a definite reply. “I’ll get through to them somehow,” she offered. “You go to Johnny, I’ll call the White House, and when I have someone on the line I’ll bring you the phone?” 

“Okay,” T.J. replied, swallowing the knot in his throat at the thought of his parents, Dougie, his grandma… all of them thinking he was dead. And poor Ella stood there next to him, shocked and overwhelmed as well, but he could pay her no attention now. 

“Is he… is he awake?” T.J. asked, stopping just after he had started heading in direction of Johnny’s room. 

Sue gave him a small shrug. “He was asleep when I left him and still when I checked on him a while ago.”

“Jesus. How do I do this? I don’t want to spook him.” And what a ridiculous situation that was. 

“Just… hang on,” Sue said, hurrying towards Johnny’s door and opening it very carefully. T.J. hardly dared peek inside, wondering what the hell he’d think if their places were reversed and he’d suddenly see the person he’d thought dead, first thing after waking up. He’d probably think he’d lost his mind. 

He could see her switch on the lights, just carefully turning up the dimmer to a faint, warm glow before she nodded to T.J. to step inside. “I’ll make that call now,” she whispered as T.J. finally entered and, very quietly, closed the door behind him. 

He took a deep breath and stepped over to the bed. Johnny was lying there on his side, eyes closed and knees pulled up under the blanket. Half of it was under him, and it looked like Sue had only managed to fold the free half over him, and when T.J. came yet a bit closer, kneeling down in front of the bed and carefully leaning on it, he could see that Johnny’s eyes were swollen and, despite the calmness of sleep, he looked sad. 

“Johnny?” T.J. said in a whisper, having to fight back the tears that suddenly stung in his eyes. “Hey, baby. It’s me. Wake up.” 

Very slowly, very carefully, he reached out, touched his fingertips to the back of Johnny’s hand and lower arm. “Johnny? Baby, wake up.” 

Finally, Johnny’s brow furrowed, his eyelids twitched and then, at last, he blinked them open and looked at T.J., for just one second still drowsy from sleep before his eyes shot fully open. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments (and sorry for yet another small cliffhanger). Your wait is finally over and you get Johnny's reaction to T.J. being alive. 
> 
> As I said last time, I'm not sure how quickly I can get the next few chapters done. As of now, I have nothing for chapter 22 yet, but it's still a week, so there's that. If I can't finish one until next Sunday then please be patient. I will definitely finish this - I have everything mapped out in my head, I just need to find the energy to write it down. In any case, you can always check my tumblr, leandraholmes. If I have news - good or bad - I will post them there under the tag 'tstorm' or 'first-sons-and-superheroes'. 
> 
> I do hope you all will stick around even if it does take a few weeks longer :)

Johnny’s eyes were wide open, and although they were reddened and swollen, there was a look of shock and bewilderment in them. 

“I missed the train, and I couldn’t call because my phone died,” T.J. was saying, quickly trying to convey the most important facts that would convince Johnny he was alive, not a ghost or figment of his imagination. “God I’m so sorry, but I’m here. I’m here.” 

“T.J.?” Johnny’s voice was raspy, disbelieving and so wrecked that it broke T.J.’s heart. 

“Yes, I’m here. I’m okay. There was a huge traffic jam in Baltimore and I didn’t catch the train. Jesus, baby, I’m so sorry. I wanted to call you but my phone didn’t charge anymore, and--” 

But Johnny scrambled up into a sitting position, pulled T.J. to him over the bed, clinging onto him for dear life. A wrecked sob escaped him, and he held T.J. even closer, fingers digging in the fabric of his sweater as he struggled for balance. And T.J. knew what that felt like. Even if his own  grief had been only a fraction of what Johnny must have experienced, as he’d gone through the shock of loss for only a minute. It had hardly been as definite as hearing it on the news and having spent hours in the knowledge that the person you loved was dead. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, gently rubbing Johnny’s back as he held him, shifting until he sat cross-legged on the bed and Johnny leaned against his chest. “Ella didn’t have her phone with her, and we thought we’d be nearly as fast as the train, and I could still call you from a payphone on the way. So we decided she’d drive me up here instead of heading back home to hers. But there was another traffic jam around Philly and… Oh. That was because of the train?” 

But Johnny didn’t reply, too shaken and emotionally exhausted to get a word over his lips, as it seemed. He pushed himself up and leaned back, one hand still curled in the side of T.J.’s sweater tightly, the other now reaching up to T.J.’s cheek. His fingertips were ghosting over his skin, brow furrowed above his glistening eyes, almost as if he didn’t believe what he saw. “I thought I’d lost you,” he got out at last, voice breaking, and all T.J. could do was hug him again, run his hands through Johnny’s short hair before he held his face in his hands and kissed him, his lips and cheeks and lips again. 

“You haven’t. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

Johnny nodded weakly, but all he seemed to want to do was bury himself against T.J.’s chest again, embracing him tightly as his back was shaking with faint sobs he couldn’t suppress. And T.J. was crying too, he noticed when his vision became blurry and his eyes began to sting slightly. He’d never seen Johnny like this, had never wanted to see him in so much pain - although it was rather the echo of it, now paired with relief. T.J. didn’t even want to imagine how much worse it must have been earlier. He had a lot to make up for. 

They just held each other for a while, and Johnny seemed to regain some of his strength, running his hands over T.J.’s back and shoulder as he buried his face in the crook of his neck, his breath even again.  

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and T.J. very gently pulled himself from the tight embrace, kissing Johnny on the lips briefly. “That’s probably Sue with my family on the phone,” he said and saw Johnny’s eyes widening. He could probably empathise very well with what they all had been going through, too. 

“Come in!” T.J. called, and a moment later Sue was inside while he sat up straight on the bed, feet on the floor again but holding Johnny’s hand in his. 

“I’ve got your mom”, Sue said, and T.J.’s heart beat a little faster as he took the phone from her hand. 

“Mom?” 

“T.J.? Oh my god, T.J.,” he could hear her sob, and that was something he’d rarely witnessed, too. 

“I’m so sorry, mom, but my phone broke and I couldn’t call anyone,” he said, not sure how much Sue had already explained. She had already left again. 

“We thought you were dead,” she said, clearly under tears, and T.J. really wanted to slap himself for not handling this whole thing more sensibly, for not having returned to Ella’s to charge his phone and, upon realising he couldn’t, use hers to contact Johnny. If he’d done that, everything would’ve been fine. 

“I’m so, so sorry. Is everyone okay?” 

He heard her take a deep breath, a thick, sad chuckle coming over her lips before she audibly swallowed. “All things considered, yes. It was quite the shock for your grandmother, but we were all here when Sue reached us. How… why didn’t you call from somewhere on the road?” 

“I tried,” T.J. answered. “But we had no clue about what had happened. We were listening to stupid mix tapes the whole time and didn’t hear the news. So I just called Johnny and left a message on his voicemail. Which… I guess he never checked?” He looked back at Johnny whose eyes widened again before he looked around, to the nightstand and the sideboard before he shrugged softly. The phone was nowhere to be seen. 

“I’m really sorry, mom.” 

“Never mind that now. I’m just so, so glad you’re okay,” she said, and her voice broke again, followed by hitched breaths and sniffling, and it made T.J. feel really awful. 

He heard shuffling on the other end of the line and then, first distant, then close, his dad’s voice. “T.J.?”

“I’m here, dad.” 

“God, son, it’s so good to hear your voice. I never thought--” His voice, too, was thick with emotion. “We’re coming up there to see you, if that’s alright?” 

“Of course, dad,” T.J. replied, having to swallow hard and wipe tears from the corner of his eyes. “Jesus, I’m really so sorry. Of course you can come here. Are all of you coming?” 

His dad took a moment to reply. “I think so. Your mom has got to get the Air Force One ready, so we’ll be there in… two to three hours?” 

“Okay. God,” T.J. let out a deep breath, fighting against the tightness in his throat, and he could find nothing else to say but “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay son. I’m just glad you’re alive.” 

T.J. swallowed. “Hey dad, give me Dougie, okay?”

“Alright,” his dad replied, voice still thick. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“See you, dad,” T.J. said, feeling a wave of warmth towards all of his family, despite the still somewhat strained mood last Saturday. Even with all their shortcomings they did love him, and he’d put them through such a hell over the past few hours. 

Finally, Douglas was on the line. 

“Please remind me to never ever go on a road trip again without at least one functioning phone,” T.J. said, feeling more at ease to at least attempt to lighten the mood with his brother. 

He heard a choked up, breathy laugh at the other end. “I will.” 

“Jesus, don’t tell me you’ve been crying too, Dougie, I can’t handle it anymore.” 

“Of course I have, dumbass. We thought you were no more than dust and ash.”

T.J. replied with a soft laugh of his own, but it hardly took away from the guilt he felt, from that clenching feeling in his gut and the burning in his eyes. “I’m really sorry, you know. I wish you didn’t have to go through this.” 

“I know. It was a huge shock, but the most important thing is that you’re okay. And we’ll be seeing you in a bit. How’s Johnny doing?” 

“Uh…” T.J. didn’t feel completely comfortable talking about his boyfriend with him sitting right next to him, but he turned around, stroked Johnny’s hand in his affectionately, seeing the smallest of tentative smiles on his lips. “Okay I guess.” 

“That’s good to hear. Okay, we should get ready I suppose. So…” 

“Hey, you could probably take a helicopter from JFK and land here on the roof. They’ve got a landing place,” T.J. offered, knowing how long it usually took to get downtown from the airport. 

“Yeah, I know,” Douglas replied. “I’ll text you when we land. And now go and take care of your boyfriend. I’m sure he needs it.” 

“I will,” T.J. said. “And Dougie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you. And I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” his brother replied earnestly, but then T.J. could hear another faint chuckle. “But if you do something like this ever again I’m going to murder you.” 

It made T.J. laugh through the tears he couldn’t keep from his eyes. “It’d be fully deserved.”

With a short exchange they ended the phone call and T.J. let himself sink backwards onto the bed, feeling exhausted already. 

Johnny was next to him, propped on one elbow, and there was something tentative in the way he settled down to fully lie on his side, facing T.J. while his gaze roamed over his face. As if he didn’t know what to do, what to say. 

T.J. gave him a small, encouraging smile as he rolled over onto his side too, but it was then, just as he was about to reach for Johnny’s hand, that his expression broke again, a strangled sound coming over his lips. He reached out for T.J., an arm wrapped around his shoulder to pull him close, but this time, he didn’t bury his face against T.J.’s chest. Instead, as he swallowed down a choked breath, he brought his lips to T.J.’s. Small, desperate kisses against his mouth, his cheek and jaw, and he seemed torn between wanting to press his eyes shut to fight off any new tears and looking T.J. in the eyes in between those kisses. 

“Don’t ever leave me, okay?” he got out, voice thick and strangled, giving T.J. only a second to reply with an encouraging shake of his head before he kissed him again. He let the contact linger a few seconds longer this time, lips firmly against T.J.’s before he felt the tip of Johnny’s tongue against his bottom lip. And god, he’d missed this - although this was very different from any kisses they’d ever shared, far more desperate, fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes, legs shifting closer, hitched sounds coming over Johnny’s lips with about every other breath. 

“Please don’t. I don’t know wha-- I can’t--”

“Shh, it’s okay,” T.J. broke him off gently, fingertips running slowly over Johnny’s cheek. “I’m here now. It’s all okay.” 

They kissed again. It was a long, tender yet intense contact. T.J. could feel Johnny’s breath becoming more even again, as if the closeness had calmed him down already, assured him that T.J. wasn’t going anywhere and it all had just been little more than a bad dream. But soon, barely seconds later, Johnny pulled him closer again, a foot sliding between his shins. Lips pressed against T.J.’s, hands pulling at fabric, it seemed like Johnny didn’t know what to do with his hands. There was such raw need in his frantic attempt to get closer and closer still, and T.J. could only wrap his arms around him tightly, kiss him back, stroke his arms, back, chest. 

It was like muscle memory, like something etched deep into the layers of his consciousness when that need for closeness - Johnny needing comfort and T.J. giving it - sparked arousal in them. Everything happened so quickly, seemed to sweep Johnny and T.J. as a consequence away beyond any rational thought or control. 

It was strange how something could feel good and sad at the same time. T.J. had pictured their first time together again quite differently, but this, hastily opening and pushing the bare minimum of clothes out of way, the desperate, impatient need in Johnny’s kisses and the way he pushed against him, one hand wrapped around the both of them - it felt strangely right, wonderful and devastating at the same time, and T.J. found himself pressing closer against Johnny, too, one hand dug into the skin at the nape of his neck as they breathed hotly against each other. 

It was over very quickly, leaving him with the tiniest feeling of ‘not enough’ despite the physical release that had barely even been the purpose of this. But that was something he couldn’t change right now; it could only be enough once they spent days and days together, making up for the time they’d missed being together. 

He felt a small smile on his lips as his breath calmed down, and it was mirrored on Johnny’s features, albeit much more tentatively and still shadowed by what he had to go through the past few hours. That too, would probably take time to heal fully. 

For a while, they didn’t say a word; Johnny only looked into T.J.’s eyes, his fingertips tracing the outlines of his jaw, chin and nose, almost as if he still needed to convince himself that T.J. was real and right in front of him. Familiarising himself with every detail of T.J.’s face again, and T.J. couldn’t tell when he’d last felt so adored, so loved and missed. 

The slight furrow that had been ever-present on Johnny’s brow slowly faded, too, and a calm settled in him as he lay facing T.J., still just looking at him, caressing his face so slowly and gently. Then, his lips parted, and he took a shallow breath before he got his words out with a hoarse voice. “Marry me.” 

It took a moment until the words fully registered with T.J., and when they did, it was like being jolted awake from a pleasant, near sleep-like state, and for another long moment, he didn’t know what to say. His heartbeat sped up, and for a very short moment, a sense of blissful surprise spread through him. But then, something else, something more cautious and sensible took over, and T.J. let out a small sigh. 

“Oh Johnny,” he said softly, caressing his face. “I really, really love you, I hope you know that.” 

There was the tiniest quirk around Johnny’s lips, but something doubtful in his eyes at the same time. 

T.J. gave him a small, encouraging smile. “You’re… you’re still kinda in shock over all of this.”

“I’m not in shock,” Johnny said, and for the first time today his voice regained its usual firmness and confidence. “I really thought about this. And I don’t mean just now. I want us to be together. Not just for the next six months or three years but… forever.” 

The beating of T.J.’s heart got even faster, and he felt an involuntary smile spread on his lips, a part of him so tempted to just say yes, to believe what Johnny said and trust, without a doubt, that it was enough. And maybe it was, but it didn’t feel like it was the right moment. 

“I’d like that too,” he said truthfully, again letting his fingertips roam over Johnny’s cheek, over the beard stubble, just long enough to start feeling soft. “And I’m not saying ‘no, never.’ But… we’ve both been through a lot, and we need to find our way back to each other completely first. Does that make sense?”

The look on Johnny’s face - something between embarrassed and defeated - made T.J. nearly regret his words the very next moment, but then Johnny shrugged softly. “I guess.”

“It’s not a definite no,” T.J. repeated, another encouraging smile on his lips before he briefly brought them to Johnny’s. “It’s just a ‘not yet’. Let’s just wait until we’ve settled back in, and everything’s back to normal, okay?” 

And finally, the confidence, albeit tentative, was back to Johnny’s expression as he nodded and returned the smile, a little softer. “Okay.” 

T.J. felt bad about it, but excited at the prospect nevertheless. Hopeful in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time, and it was with gratitude when he brought their lips back together, letting the kiss linger for a few moments, gentle and reassuring. 

“You know what we should do?” 

“What?” Johnny asked, having laid an arm around T.J.’s waist and caressing the skin on the small of his back, and God, T.J. couldn’t get enough of it. 

“We should probably take a shower before my family gets here,” he said despite not really wanting to get up. 

The tiny laugh that came over Johnny’s lips then was the most carefree he could have sounded, and it caused a warmth to spread in T.J.’s chest that he felt could only get better from here on. 

He smiled and kissed Johnny once more before he pushed himself off the bed. “Come on then,” he said and reached out a hand. 

Johnny gave him a small smile and took it.

~*~

When T.J.’s family arrived, his attention was, of course, focused on them. The two hours before they got here, Johnny had hardly been able to let go off T.J. for even just a moment - holding his hand, lying close to him on the bed and looking at him again and again to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming - but now he had to, giving the close contact up to T.J.’s mom and dad who were both crying when they first captured him in their arms, followed by his brother and grandma. They were sitting in the living room now, all five of them squeezed together on the couch, and Johnny, albeit reluctantly, took his leave. 

Passing the Secret Service agents who respectfully stood outside the living room, he headed for the kitchen. Anne had come too and was sitting at the kitchen table with Sue and Ella while Reed was taking care of Frankie. All three of them turned and gave him a sympathetic, encouraging smile as he joined them. 

“Could you all stop looking at me like T.J. is terminally ill or something?” he tried for humour, but it came out a little snappishly, prompting Ella and Anne to look back down at their coffee cups and Sue to give him another, very similarly sympathetic look. 

“Sorry,” she said, her lips twitching into a small smile that Johnny managed to return nevertheless. 

He appreciated their sympathy, he really did, but it also reminded him of the fact that there had been a very real reason for it, just a few hours ago, and he didn’t want to be reminded. Didn’t want to still feel the echo of the gut-wrenching pain and grief he had felt when he’d been convinced T.J. was dead. He still felt that echo physically in the dull humming ache in his head, the thick feeling behind his nose, eyes and forehead, and he briefly pondered whether he should take an aspirin as he went to a kitchen cabinet to get a glass and fill it with water. 

But, after taking a large gulp of water and noticing the sudden silence in the room, he let out a low groan. “Okay, and stop that awkward silence. Please?” he added a little softer. 

“Are you heading home tonight still?” Anne asked Ella. It was nearly eight already, and even if she left now she wouldn’t be home before one-thirty or later. 

Ella shook her head. “No, I called the principal and asked for a day off. He was fine with it, considering the circumstances.”

“Ella is going to sleep here in the guest bedroom,” Sue said as she opened the fridge and took out a few items to make sandwiches. “What about you guys?” 

“We have to fly back tonight,” Anne replied. “I mean, Elaine does. There’s going to be a press conference about the attack tomorrow morning. The rest of us could stay but… I don’t know.” She briefly glanced up towards Johnny and back down at her cup again. 

He could fully empathise with T.J.’s family wanting to spend time with him after such a shock, and it made him feel awkward again and a little guilty for wanting to have T.J. all to himself as soon as possible. 

“You could stay at the hotel just around the corner from our building,” he offered to soothe his own conscience, but Anne shook her head. “No, I think we’ll all head back tonight. It’s better if Doug is there, too, and there’ll be a lot of work for Elaine tomorrow. We can come up again another time.” 

“I bet it’s going to be a few busy days ahead for her,” Ella said and Anne let out a small, sarcastic chuckle. 

“You bet. They barely let her leave today, speculating that it could be seen as her wasting tax money to fly up to New York to see her son instead of addressing the nation after a tragedy of this massive extent.” 

“I hope they catch whoever did this,” Ella said, shaking her head regretfully. 

“Yeah me too. And if not, they’re all going to hold it against her somehow. For letting the wrong people into the country or whatever the press and public like to say,” Anne replied. 

Johnny didn’t find the energy to ponder this or even care about the events on a larger scale. He knew it was unfair, unfair to every other person who did lose someone today, but he couldn’t think of anything else than being grateful T.J. hadn’t been one of them after all. If he’d really died there… Johnny forced himself to keep the thought from his mind, pressed his eyes shut as he turned around and refilled his glass. T.J. was alive. He was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere, he had to tell himself like a mantra. 

Some time past ten, T.J.’s family left again. On their way out, Elaine hugged Johnny more heartily than ever before, and he felt a little bad for her, for not being able to stay with her kid as almost every other parent would have, but he was also glad to finally be able to go home. 

The emotional stress of the day had worn on him, and Johnny could barely keep his eyes open as they took a taxi home, letting it drive into the parking garage to avoid the press and onlookers that were, as expected, waiting at the entrance. At long last, they were at home. T.J. was at home with him, and Johnny wished he wasn’t so tired and didn’t still feel the after-effect of the afternoon so that he could properly cherish that moment, could just sit on the couch with T.J., talk and enjoy each other’s presence as he’d imagined before the news earlier today had destroyed all that. 

T.J. seemed to sense what he needed instead, led him upstairs where they got ready for bed together; hugged him, kissed him and held him until they were both lying under the covers. And Johnny felt so weak, so needy and fragile, and he didn’t want to feel that way, having wanted to be the strong one, definitely not wanted to spring a proposal on him like that which left him feel embarrassed about it now, had wanted to take care of T.J. for once, show him that things were going to change and that he was going to pay a lot more attention to T.J.’s needs, and it was the exact other way around now, but he couldn’t help it. Could help neither feeling weak and stupid and exhausted, nor the stinging sensation in his eyes and the tightness in his chest that he did not want to, should not feel anymore because everything was okay now. T.J. was here, and there was no reason to cry again and act and feel like such a baby. 

“I’m really glad to be back home,” T.J. said softly before he placed a small kiss to Johnny’s lips, and at least it took away a little bit of all the conflicting, frustrating feelings in him. 

“I’m glad you’re back too,” Johnny replied, not knowing how to put into words everything else that he felt, not even knowing which parts were relevant and appropriate to share and which weren’t. And above everything else, he didn’t want to stop looking at T.J., stop feeling him close to him, as if he needed to make up for all the time they’d missed right now, as soon as possible. But his body betrayed him, and, with the feeling of T.J.’s skin under his fingertips - the crook of his neck - and the warmth of a hand on the small of his back, Johnny couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. 

 


End file.
